Dream of: 15 January 1992 "Feeling Inferior"

I was sitting in the back row in the left corner of a classroom filled with perhaps 50 students. I was unsure what the class was about, but the discussion turned to music, and then to harpsichords. I had heard of harpsichords, but couldn't remember exactly what they were. A fellow sitting on my right close to me brought out what he said was a small harpsichord and placed it on his desk and began playing it.

To get a better look, I stood and walked around to the other side of the fellow. Several other people were also standing. The harpsichord appeared to be a wooden box about a foot square with metal strings extending from the top to the bottom. The fellow plucked the strings and commented that he played it like a piano. I thought briefly about how many different types of musical instruments existed, and how little I actually knew about them. How many instruments would it be possible for one person to play?

The harpsichord on the desk reminded me of a larger instrument I had seen in another classroom a couple years earlier. I remembered that on the last few days of that school year, a teacher had brought a giant harpsichord into the classroom and had set it up in front of the class. The harpsichord had stood perhaps two meters tall and was about two meters wide.

To confirm what I remembered, I called to one of my classmates and asked about the large instrument I recalled having seen. A discussion ensued among several students as to whether the large instrument had actually been a harpsichord; finally a woman who had been a teacher in the other classroom spoke up, and talked about the large instrument.

Meanwhile I had sat back down; Sally was now sitting to my right. She was a mature woman, and I was surprised when I felt her little finger entwine itself with the little finger of my right hand. I didn't think it was a romantic gesture; when she asked me if I minded, I jokingly said, "You just want to hold my hand."

She didn't respond, but instead slowly clasped all my fingers with hers and held my entire hand. I still didn't think she was trying to be romantic, but that she was simply holding my hand for some other reason. However, how much I wished she did want to be romantic. She was so beautiful; she would be such a wonderful person to be involved with. The fact that I was married would be a problem. Of course I couldn't imagine that Sally would be interested in me. Besides being married, I had other problems which would keep such a wonderful creature from wanting to be with me. I felt quite inferior to her.

Her blonde hair, so close to my face, looked so silky beautiful. I imagined she would be able to do almost anything she wanted in life. Her one flaw, if she had any, was that she wasn't as aggressive as she might be. I had in recently come in contact with very aggressive people in some classes.

I wondered out loud what Sally would do with her life. She acted as if she would just be a housewife; "I'll spend my time at home."

I doubted that. She had to much to offer to spend her life as a housewife. Yet she probably would get married. I said, "You'll do both. You'll spend twelve hours at home."

I meant to say that indeed she would have a home, but the bulk of her life would be spent working at something else. She lowered her head in assent.

I could feel that both our hands had begun to perspire, yet she showed no inclination to withdraw hers. Enjoying myself as much as I was, I saw no reason to pull away mine.

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