Dream: every tax return was a tiny door

I'm walking down a corridor made of filing cabinets, and every tax return I open is a tiny door into someone's kitchen. One has a kettle whistling, one has a cat asleep on a pile of receipts. I keep opening them hoping to find my own kitchen, but they're all other people's, and the kettle is always about to boil but never does. Woke up oddly calm, like I'd done a good day's work.