June 8th, 2008


Sunday morning is dream time

I woke up from a really strange dream.

I was kindergarten again, complete with plastic backpack and kindergarten body. I was sitting in a large room about the size of my elementary school gym. It wasn't my gym, though, for the floor wasn't flat. Instead, the floor had levels--steps, if you will. As you walked toward the back of the gym, the steps got higher and higher. For some reason it reminded me of the library reading pit in my elementary school, except the reading pit had two steps all around and a large pit in the middle. Then I thought of the way we were made to hang out in the gym until around 7:40am, when we could go to our classrooms.

Anyway, I was sitting in the very back of the gym, and Jeffrey and Jonathan (a friend of his) were sitting in front of me. I was kicking Jonathan for more foot space. This wasn't kindergarten, I thought. If it were, Jeffrey and his friends wouldn't be there with me. But it's dreamtime, and you just know this stuff in dreams. This dream was telling me that the room was packed with students, all of them in kindergarten.

Then a bell rang. That's when I noticed the secret doors. People of all elementary school shapes and sizes poured into the room, and people left the room. I exited the gym with a crowd of other students and entered another classroom. Mrs. Gurganus, an elementary school teacher at the time I was there (I believe she taught first grade, though I never had her) stood outside the door. I went in.

This classroom more resembled the library reading pit than the previous room did. Besides having ten steps instead of two that the library did, desks sat on the steps spread out in even intervals. Not nice desks, though--desks that were probably half-eaten by termites beforehand. I located the largest, least damaged desk I could find and sat in it. It was halfway down the steps and faced what looked like mailboxes. The surface of the desk was about a square foot.

I looked around the classroom at the students. It definitely wasn't organized by grade level; I saw several people who were never in my grade through school. Then I directed my attention straight ahead to what looked like mailboxes. The wall to the right was also covered with these mailbox-like things. The mailboxes were labeled with a number and a name in what had to be the student's own handwriting. This wouldn't have been unusual except my mailboxes were labeled with my current handwriting and not my elementary school handwriting.

I noticed a loose tooth in the back of my mouth and began to wiggle it as I looked at the other two walls, which were covered with chalkboards. The same text was written about five times on the chalkboards. I had to turn around to see the chalkboards, as my desk faced a mailbox wall. I raised my hand to ask a question about the text, which looked like an assignment involving a Belgian card. I continued to wiggle my loose tooth.

But the voice that came out was the voice that I speak with today, and the the words that I used were the ones I use today, right down to the nitty-gritty grammar. It was quite strange.

Mrs. Gurganus did notice the mistake in her assignment and proceeded to erase the irrelevant text. She had to erase it about five times, so as she moved around the room erasing the text, I wiggled my tooth, and it finally popped out. I nearly swallowed it out of shock but finally recovered it. I found a napkin out of nowhere and wrapped the tooth in the napkin, setting it on the floor next to my desk.

Then Mrs. Gurganus proceeded to explain how the mailboxes worked. I zoned out at this explanation. It was easy enough, right?

At this point I woke up.

Strange, oui?

Oh, have some FreeRice stats. This was a quickie before yesterday's family gathering.

Session 2:
Grains per correct word: 20 grains
Ending level: 36
Best level: 40
Total donated: 1000 grains

Total statistics:
Grains per correct word: 20 grains
Best level: 41
Total donation: 3000 grains