I had a strange dream last night that I still remember rather vividly.
I was in school. College perhaps, because I recall being able to call the teacher "professor." I think, even, that the teacher in question was one of my teachers from college. Liz, we called her. Her first name was Elizabeth. I can't even remember what her formal 'teacher name' would be. She was always just Liz.
My class and I had a project to do. A last-minute, end of the year project that was thrown together due to poor planning on the professor's part. I had to go to a particularly large classroom - literally quite grandiose, with stacks of bookshelves for some reason lining the walls - and I had to put on a performance for a class of younger students.
We were tasked with performing Star Wars - just the first movie, Darth Vader and all that noise. But we had no costumes. Nor did we have any preparation. We had to do it right then. The only costumes we could find were (and this may be dangerous to say around these parts)... animal costumes. Fur suits.
All I can remember was being mad. That wasn't what I signed up for. I was failed by the educational system. Failed by my professor. I remember yelling about it, making a scene, in front of the audience, about how much of an utter disgrace the whole thing was.
Then I woke up, of course. And I wrote 1,500 words of a 4,000 word commission.
Boys and girls, I think I am officially messed up. D:
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11 years, 10 months ago
18 Sep 2013 04:42 CEST
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