Dream Recollection (High School for The Physically Disabled)

A high school laid out a lot like the one I went to. It’s an institution with a lot of humans physically “disabled,” or at least unlike the symmetrical norm. One girl, a tall, strong, tanned bull of a girl, she’s got a thumb sticking out of an arm stump, kind of like Nick Newell.

This is a recurring element in my dreams: I go to school one day, realize I have forgotten to attend chemistry for weeks. There is now an exam coming up. I am fucked. And I feel guilty. The chemistry teacher’s hard work and tolerant teaching style deserves attention, not flippancy.

What of the test?

The thread is, per the norm in dreams, left hanging.

A college friend-for-a-couple-months reaches out to catch up out of the blue. I can count our number of mutual hangout sessions on one hand, but my spirit is nonetheless livened by the news. She was a self-described hypochondriac with some thug taste in music. I had wanted to get to know her more. We had shared shots of cheesecake-flavored vodka together at our first meeting, back in a time when I was still willing to entertain shots.

Alas, I realize and remind her that we are not in the same city. The meetup unceremoniously falls through with mere “Doh!” acknowledgement, without any marked exchange of regret. “Doh!” as in ‘We are not close enough friends. What are we doing, intersecting again anyways?’

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