I had a dream I was at school and I saw my old Spanish professor in the library. He’s surprised to see me and I try to tell him all that’s happened since class ended but he disappears. Then I see a group of girls from Saipan and they’re also students. I have to leave. I’m in another class and my professor is named Jason and he’s completely bald. Everyone is turning in their portfolios and I realize that an important component of mine is missing. When class lets out, I head toward the building where his office is located. I realize I don’t know his last name. On the way there, a drama class is staging a play, something from Shakespeare. I spot my best friend from high school; she’s wearing roller skates and oblivious to me. She wheels offstage. Then I’m on a bus but I’m not sure where we’re going. I check the LCD screen in the front of the bus and the numbers change from 11 to 15. Houses pop up outside the window. We’re on Saipan. I pull the chord and we stop in front of a grocery store. I have no idea how to get home, and by home, I mean Seattle.
I had very good intentions when I made my paper proposal to my professor. The independent study hasn’t started, but I realize that I have nothing of social or literary import to say. I have this week to put something on paper and about 10 weeks to write 25 pages. I love Victorian literature very much, but it is exhausting at times, especially with a Victorian genius watching my progress. Wish me luck on this.
I got my first jury summons. They’ll pay me 10 bucks a day for at least two days. I’m debating whether to send in a hardship letter because I do have work that week and an important lunch with my scholarship donor. I could always spew out crazy shit like, “He’s guilty of course. This is according to the prophecy.” I have five days to reply.
You know what’s weird? I went into a gas station the other day and there’s that “We Card” sign and I shuddered because the year indicated is not my year! I remember that on my 21st birthday the bartender looked at my I.D. and exclaimed, “Oh no! The ’83’s are legal now!” Now, when did everyone around me become 18?