I was back at my elementary school, but I was not attending, as I was still my current age of 22. I was actually a character in a play.
We had been doing rehersals, and it was time for the actual event to take place. The play's producer was none other than my elementary school friend Kim. This play was her project, and meant a lot to her.
So there she sat towards the back of my elementary school's auditorium, her feet propped up on the chair in front of her, a notepad on her lap.
The auditorium fills with spectators, and the play begins. Don't ask me what it's about, because I don't remember. I do remember that we walk on stage left, say something to one of the actors standing there, and run to the other side of the stage flapping our arms and making weird, high-pitched noises. Once we reached the end of the stage on stage right, we'd walk offstage, walk back onstage at the back, and walk across back to stage right.
I guess I was tired. I walked out, said my thing to the dude, flapped my arms yelling "WOOLOOLOOLOOLOOLOOLOO", and as I reached the wings on the other side, I fell to the floor. And I fell asleep.
I fell asleep. In a dream. How weird.
It seems that when you fall asleep in a dream, you still see events unfold. So there I was, sleeping on stage while the other actors tried to continue. Eventually, I woke up and used my feet to pull myself offstage without getting up.
The other actors took their frustrations out on me. An oriental girl came up to me, fuming. "I missed part of my line. Should I have dropped and fell asleep?" and she stormed off. Most others just gave me hateful looks.
I went to the autorium director's office, and the director turned out to be Mark - the marketing guy from work. I told him what happened, and he thought it was slightly humorous. I asked if there was anything I could do to make up for it, and he told me it was okay, and to go home and get the CD that they forgot at my house. They needed a particular song for an upcoming scene, though the scene wasn't coming on for another two hours.
Mark: "The song is track 6"
Me: "Isn't that 'Please don't let everybody be mad at me'?"
Mark: "Yep, that's the one."
Me: "Seems strangely appropriate."
Mark: "[Laughs], nah. Don't worry about it."
Intermission hit, and I grabbed my backpack and started for the doors to exit the auditorium. I look across to the other side as I walk, and I see Kim in the audience, still with her feet up, scribbling notes into her pad. I walk over.
I say "Hi" in an apologetic way, and she turns to look at me. Her eyes are red from tears, and she doesn't say much.
"I have to go to my apartment to pick something up. Do you need anything?"
She quickly shakes her head 'no', and turns back to her notes. Her face holds the expression of disappointment and hurt. She begins writing again.
I turn back, and exit the school.
Just as I leave, I wonder why I need this backpack, but I decide to just leave it. I think back to Kim and how I've hurt her. It made me feel extremely bad to disappoint someone I have known for so long, and in turn, I felt pretty shitty.
I began my walk home. The scene was at 18:00 hours, so I looked at my watch. It says 16:01. I have plenty of time.
I come to a busy street that is also a downward hill. I start at the top and run quiclky down the hill, though my run isn't really running; It's more of an extraordinarily fast, forced walk. Towards the bottom of the hill, my shirt catches on a little hibachi-sized grill perched on top of a hot dog cart built into the front of a building. The grill starts to roll off the top of the cart, but I'm able to detach my shirt and push it back into position before it rolls off.
I finally arrive home, and it turns out to be my OLD home in New York - my apartment building. My Dad and his friend Phil are leaving the building, and I shout to them to say hi. We walk back into the building, and I tell them the story of what happened at the play. I remember saying "It's not like it was my fault!", as we reached the top of the staircase. Apparently, we were going to the roof. As we unscrewed the screw for the roof door, I asked Phil how he's doing. He replies positively, and I wake up.