Undisclosed - Zach Bo1inger
Dream: Back to School
For some reason I have to go back to high school. Part of me looks forward to coasting through and just in general being the smartest one there, including being smarter than the teachers. Another part of me knows that I am going to have problems with all the stupid little rules that children must follow. I know this will be a problem, because it always is when I dream about high school. (Interesting side note, throughout the course of this dream, it is very real, but I know I am dreaming.)
Right off the bat, my concerns prove to be well founded. I was two minutes late getting in the front door. Instead of letting me in, they send me to an office. I walk in and it is a beautiful atrium. It almost looks like a corporate lobby/greenhouse. I walk up to the office window and explain that I was late. The woman gives me a form that looks like a standardized test and a No. 2 pencil. She tells me to go sit on the bench and fill out the paperwork. I turn around and there are already 15 students filling out the same form. I was only 2 minutes late, remember.
I sit down and start the paperwork. After a couple seconds, I say to myself, "Screw this. If there's no difference between 2 minutes and an hour late, I'm going to go get me some breakfast." and I leave.
I come back after the breakfast and fill out the form. It turns out there is all kinds of bureaucracy involved with explaining why you are late and listening to petty little office workers berate you. At least I have that tasty breakfast in my stomach. I finally finish around noon. As I walk down the hall, I think of all the education that I missed because I was in the office all morning. It seems kind of pointless to go through that whole ordeal to make me realize how important that two minutes I missed were.
The next thing that occurs to me as I walked down the hall is, I have no idea what class I should be going to. I walk for a while, hoping something will ring a bell, when it occurs to me that I should go to the top floor on the elevator to get a copy of my schedule. I find an elevator, and decided to stop at the 18th floor instead of going to the top. There are a couple other people with me in the elevator, and they get off there, too.
We all step out if the elevator and are surprised to find that this floor is a food processing / fish packing plant. It is filthy and it smells. (I didn't dream the smell. I never smell anything in my dreams. I just sort of knew it smelled.) As they gut the fish, blood and stuff is pooling up on the ground and leaking to floors below. I was thinking that might be the cause of a lot of the school's problems. Needless to say, I want to leave, but the elevator I rode up on is gone.
There is another elevator that looks kind of like a fishing boat inside. We get in and I look at my watch. I had missed the entire school day. We take the fishing boat elevator down to the gym to see if anything is going on.
There is going to be a football game in the gym. I decide to watch. Instead of bleachers, there are these 70s style chairs. They are like big plastic spoons with no handles - some orange, some pink. They are supported by big metal girders. Instead of going up and back, they go up and forward. You climb a ladder to get to your row and then climb along the structure to get to your chair. Your feet hang freely. I climb up to my row, and take a seat next to the ladder so I don't have to climb too much along the row. I sit, and I look down. I am incredibly high, and it makes me feel dizzy to look down and back and see all the rows below me.
The football game starts. It's the Jets and the Dolphins. I hate them both and don't care who wins, but I enjoy the novelty of seeing NFL teams play in this unique venue. It's an interesting game. At one point, the Dolphins are running a two minute drill and they get set at the line of scrimmage before one of the jets gets back to his side. He realizes that he will not get back before the ball snaps, and no matter what the penalty will be half the distance to the goal, so he just all out hits the running back. He yells so loud as he does that it sound like he is sitting next to me yelling. The running back turns around just as he is being hit. His back twists as he goes down, and he stays down. I'm hoping it's Ricky Williams, but I am too far to read the names on the jerseys, and I don't know any Dolphins' numbers. I lean forward a little and squint my eyes. I remember that I am hundreds of feet off the ground with my feet dangling off the edge of the seat. I shutter a little as I recall how important it is to keep my balance.
If you recall, in this particular dream, I am quite aware of the fact that it is a dream. Still, I am terrified at the thought of falling out of that chair. I look down and get dizzy. I get a tingly feeling, almost like the good feeling that comes from sex, but the feeling is in my bones and I don't like it at all. I can't decide whether to keep dreaming and risk falling, or wake up. The longer I consider the decision, the worse I feel. Eventually, I am paralyzed with fear. I cannot move back in the chair. That's when I decided to wake up.