No, not basketball. Just, weirdness. . . .
We are in the physics lab. Before we have a chance to do much of anything, a scuffle breaks out in the hall. I run outside to deal with it. Before I know it, I am in front of a history class–and, um, I’m naked. No one seems to mind, but when someone comes to the door, I sit down behind the computer console so that they can’t see me. Someone has conveniently left the laundry there, and I pull on a khaki skirt and a brown cami.
Then I am in a meeting that is taking place in a limo. We are all fighting. I say, “I have nothing to hide. Let’s have the vote.” I don’t know if we actually do vote or not, because next thing I know, I am getting out of the car.
As I am walking back to the lab to get back to you, I see a very large construction worker on his back on the sidewalk. The paramedics had cracked open his chest and had done heart massage and then gave up on him. I bend down and put my hands in his chest on his heart, and the energy starts flowing though my hands, and his heart starts beating again. Then I chew out the paramedics; why the fuck didn’t they use the paddles? Stupid. Now I’m all messy. Are you going to be upset with me? I couldn’t just leave the guy to die.
In a tiny narrow cell, there is a monster. It looks like a cross between Frankenstein’s monster and the gingerbread people from that dream last year (see fifth dream). He is so big and the cell is so tiny that he has to stand diagonally. His eyes are so very sad. I feel bad for him and try to break him out. I get him out of the cell but then I hear people coming. I throw him on a couch with a bunch of coats over him (the room is a mess with clothes and papers everywhere) and lounge against them. A girl comes in and sees the cell is open–she runs out and I grab the monster and try to get him out through the door.
Then I am at the Greens’ house from Jericho and Eric is for some reason dancing through the kitchen doing jazz hands. There are several packages of meat on the table, and Ma Green is wrapping them in a fleece blanket to keep them cold, but wouldn’t that make them warm instead?
Then I am at an airport to catch a flight. I’ve given a girl a ride. She has her check out papers from the hotel, but I don’t have mine. I don’t remember if I even went through check out! I am trying to talk to the service rep. It is Greg Gumbel. He is talking nonsense, and I can’t get a coherent answer out of him.
So I decide to go back to the hotel and double check. I go to the service desk–and it is Greg Gumbel again. He is making more sense now, but he tells me a copy of my receipt is going to cost me $50. I tell him like hell it is, and I go to the manager and complain. She says she’ll print me a copy. As she pulls it up on the computer, it pops up on a screen on the wall behind her. I’m pissed because I’m afraid someone will see my account information and steal it. As I look at it, I notice there is a watermark on the page and it is the Blue Gillespie eye.
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