Dream of: 28 July 1996 "Need For Study"

I was thinking about a class I had to attend today. I was presently studying four different subjects, and I had to go to school every day. However, on two days I had more free time than on the other days.

I began thinking about how little I actually studied. In fact I hardly studied at all, and I wondered how I was able to learn without studying, because I was doing fairly well in school. I reasoned that I at least did go to the lectures, and I did spend time thinking about what I heard in the lectures. In fact I spent a great deal of time thinking. But if I were to just study an hour a day, I could improve tremendously. If I would just spend 15 minutes on each subject, it could make a huge difference.


I was sitting in one of my classes, a history class. An aisle ran down the middle of the room, separating the students on the left side from the students on the right side. From my perspective I was sitting on the right side, with the aisle right next to me on my left.

Sitting next to my on my right was a girl, or rather a young woman, probably in her early 20s (I also seemed about that age). Although I had never met the woman, as soon as I sat down, in a familiar manner she laid her left hand on top of my right hand – a gesture which I happily accepted as a sign that she felt close to me. Although we had never spoken before, we had an immediate rapport, and I liked the feeling of intimacy which we seemed to share. She soon took her hand off of mine and slipped her arm through mine, drawing us even closer together. Her actions surprised me all the more because the woman was so attractive – clearly one of the most desirable girls around. I was happy that she felt so at ease with me.

As we sat there, it occurred to me that Weinstein was also in the class. It seemed to me that Weinstein had sat next to this same girl during the previous term, but that he had never been close to her like this.

The woman was wearing a brown coat, and her straw-blonde hair fell over her shoulders. She clearly had an excellent figure. I knew she wasn't deep intellectually, but she wasn't dumb either. She knew how to do just enough to get by in school, and she didn't care about doing any more than that. I thought that was just the kind of woman I liked. Besides, I thought she had a wonderful personality and would obviously be fun to be with. Plus, she had a way of making me feel desired. She seemed very mature for her age. She was clearly quite tall – perhaps even taller than I, and I even commented to her how big she was. But then I clarified to her that I didn't mean that she was big in a derogatory way; she was simply a large person.

It was also obvious that she haled from a rich family. As we talked she named off a fancy car which she had apparently been given only recently. Apparently – because of something to do with the style of the car – she mentioned that she would be lying down a lot. I quipped that I would like her even better lying down. She gave me a knowing smile. To myself I began thinking that I had a nice car, but nothing fancy. I wondered what it would be like if I were to start driving a fancy car, such as a red Corvette, to school. What would she think about that?

As we talked, I noticed that the professor had walked into the room and was standing in the back. No one else seemed to notice, and everyone was talking, making quite a bit of noise. Finally the professor – a squat black man probably in his mid 40s (who resembled the actor Reginald VelJohnson, who plays the black policeman Carl Winslow in the television series "Family Matters") – said something and the class quieted down. The professor walked down the aisle in the middle of the room and began handing back history tests which the students had taken. I recalled that I had hardly studied at all for the test, and I saw that the professor had a look of disgust on his face as he handed me my test. He even stopped beside me and read off one of the questions of the test. The question had something to do with the daughter of a man named "Van Doren." It was clear from the question, the answer couldn't be the daughter of Van Doren. But that was exactly the answer I had chosen. The professor was disgusted and bitter with me because it was obvious that I hadn't even read the answer which I had chosen. I looked at my paper and saw that that question was the first of five in a row which I had missed; red marks saturated my paper.

The test had been divided into two parts, and at first I thought my score had been 666, or basically that I had gotten two thirds of the questions right. But it was unclear what my grade had actually been. I saw what appeared to be a letter, but I couldn't tell whether it was a "B" or a "D." Besides that, it looked as if the test had been divided into two parts, a multiple choice section and a written section. Finally I was able to figure out that I had received an 81 on one section. The girl next to me had received a 71, which seemed about the grade she usually made. She said she had guessed at almost everything on the test, but that she had read somewhere that it was very difficult to guess correctly on this professor's tests; so she was very pleased. But I wasn't so pleased with my grade, being accustomed to making much higher scores.

A paper was handed out which showed the grades of everyone in the room' almost everybody had done poorly. But I noticed one girl's name who appeared to have made an almost perfect grade – something like 230; this particular girl was almost always at the top of the class. My feelings about that were somewhat ambivalent, but I did wish that there was some way I could give her a challenge.


Class had been dismissed. Along with many of the other students, I had gone to the back of the room where several pin ball machines were sitting, and I had begun playing one. I was good, I was hot, and people started gathering around me to watch me play. I was able to quickly rack up 18 free games. But abruptly, after an awesome start, I began doing poorly, and I started to miss the balls as they rolled past my flippers.

The balls were large, about the size of billiard balls. My flippers were right in the middle of the board, right at the bottom. On top of the game, right in front of me, were two round silver buttons which I could press to control the flippers. I began frantically pushing the buttons, but the balls kept going right past them. I did manage to hit some balls back, knocking them into various holes on the surface of the game, but most balls escaped my flippers. Only when I looked closer at the flippers did I see that they were broken so they had very little length to them. It was obvious why I was now losing.

A fellow who worked there stepped up and I began complaining to him that the flippers were broken. As he tried to reach inside the machine to fix the problem, I also pointed out that the button which controlled the right flipper wasn't working. I showed him how I could press the button and the flipper would not move at all. The man indicated that I wasn't pressing the button correctly. But still, it was quite obvious that the machine wasn't functioning correctly.

I couldn't waste much more time because I needed to go to my next class, which was in another building. In fact it looked as if all the students from this class were going to go to the same class. I realized it was already past the time when I was supposed to leave; but I still had eleven free games left and I wanted to play them out. I figured if I just left the games there, I would lose them. I would prefer to give the games to somebody else; but it looked as if everyone was going to leave for the next class. Finally I turned to one fellow (about 20 years old) and I told him he could have the games. But I thought he would probably be unable to use them because he was probably also going to the next class.

Since the building for the next class was some distance away, I knew it would be necessary to go by car. Although I had a car, I hadn't driven to class today, but instead had come with a black fellow who had driven his car. I saw him and told him I would need a ride. He and I were good friends, and he indicated that of course it would be all right for me to go with him.

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