Ketchup

I don't have enough time to write about everything that's been going on, like: dogsitting at the flea-bag hotel (i.e. The Dirtiest House I've Ever Been In), my Fulbright panel interview during which the interviewers were more nervous than I was, school getting so hectic that I forgot what day it was HALFWAY THROUGH THE DAY and missed my second morning class as result, and so on.

Instead - a need to transcribe the weird dream from last night. I dreamed of houses. Huge houses. A house I was to move into that was absolutely enormous. I was moving in with my brother Ed, who was always gone and I literally never saw him. I just settled into this mansion of mansions and kept showing friends around. Even though we were living in this huge place, we claimed small areas and took them as our own and never left them. Huge spaces in the mansion were a mystery to us because we would sequester ourselves in our small, familiar rooms.

It then devolved into a stress-school dream in which I was in class with Virginia, who I have a few classes with this semester, who now was my arch-nemesis. Prof McCarthy, who is teaching a class we are both in this semester, was teaching, and was always extremely vague. He spoke in broad, sweeping tones to the enormous class, and really said nothing. Everything we discussed was of an ephemeral format, which would morph and change and twist. His tests were impossible - they looked easy but I got a 40 out of 90 on one. He would trick us also, he would tell us something, then people would leave because they were frustrated and thought class was over, and he would then divulge further information which completely changed everything. Part of the anxiety was not knowing if I should tell my peers who had left class already, or if I should keep it to myself and blame them for leaving too early.

We then morphed back into the big house, where many people were now. And we were part of a bizarre, real-life video game that we experienced, in the house. We could get hurt, and even die, as we chased robots and strange creatures around the ever-expanding mansion. Rooms literally appeared before our eyes as we twisted and turned, chasing the impossible villains. Occasionally we could be paused by an outside power, who would enlighten us to tricks and means to capturing the creatures. The solutions would appear impossibly intricate and involved, and we would fret and desperately try to memorize the techniques before being unexpectedly thrust back into the game.

Weird, eh?