In the dream I am younger, foolish, or maybe just in an alternate timeline. I am in college and for the first few weeks of the semester I keep missing a class because of some sort of social group attached to another class.
The repeated absences from the business economics class worry me, weigh on my mind, but I am actively choosing the warm, group project participation over a class I have registered for but have never attended. The idea of contacting the professor never enters my mind.
Finally, I decide I must go.
As I walk to the neglected business economics course, I see the group games people wrapping up a session. They are energized and talking to each other while I trudge off to face the uncomfortable unknown.
As I walk, I worry. Will I be able to catch up? What assignments have they completed? Will the professor have noticed I am missing? My concerns fill my mind.
Just outside the room, I can hear the professor tell the class to get out their graphing calculators—there is a test today!
I feel totally unprepared. No graphing calculator, I rifle through a bin to find scratch paper for a test as my heart sinks.
I walk into the room and approach the professor, who seems to know who I am despite my habitual truancy. I begin to try to explain myself—
“Hello, I am registered for this class…”
He cuts me off, sternly—
“Not as of today you are not.”
I am flooded with relief, but still worried. Do I need to confirm with the registrar that I have been dropped from the course? Will there be an academic penalty? Why have I paid for a course I did not attend?
Walking back, puzzling over the purloined business economics class, I see my fellow students engaging in a group activity.
They are arranging packaged snacks like sticky buns, coffee cakes, and Twinkies on folding tables so that an unseen cohort can sample them.
The contrast is stark. A minority group of students is facing a rigorous test, while most appear to be setting out and sampling junk food.
My last thought before the dream is over—
This is college? How strange.