I had three dreams last night. The first two have faded and all I can remember of the second is that I ended up standing in the
mailroom of
Oberlin College holding a
very large sausage, about 6 inches in diameter and several feet long. I was supposed to eat the sausage but it was
uncooked and slimy.
The third dream went like so: I was driving my dad's car, and my dad was in the passenger seat. He had just died, and this upset me a good deal. I cried for the first time since middle school.
It was Thanksgiving break and my friends were at my house, but I couldn't talk to them without bursting into tears. So my friends and I ended up on top of a skyscraper in the middle of a large city and I was really upset. Planes flew by, barely grazing our skin. The roof of the building was only as wide as I was tall, and I was very afraid. But my friends were mocking me and I yelled at them to shutup but they continued to taunt and there was nothing I could do because I was afraid to move.
My friends began to climb down a ladder on the side of the building. Eventually I mustered the courage to follow them. The ladder led down to the tail of a plane which was now in the place where the building was a moment ago, and I was flying through the air holding onto the ladder for dear life.
My friends managed to climb into the plane with ease but I couldn't figure it out. One of them started rapping to help me figure out how to get in, and once I began chanting the rap along with him I managed to slip into the tail of the plane.
We landed in the city. Robots from space were making their second attack on humanity. We humans had learned from their previous siege and changed the way stairs were built on earth. The robots were large and boxy and they were unable to climb up the new kinds of stairs we had devised, which were less like stairs and more like inch-wide ledges sticking out of the sides of walls. I climbed up the stairs and into a Chinese martial arts supplies shop. On one side of the store was a large fighting area where the students were practicing some obscure style reminiscent of Street Fighter II. I went into the right side of the store and interrupted the clerk because I was so rushed to help fight the robots, and asked him if he had any Chinese boxing shoes. We found none.