I was at the Gay Street House. Vaughn, for whom I was working, had an office upstairs in the House. I had stayed overtime to work tonight for him. He had seven or eight other men about my age also working for him. They likewise had stayed over tonight to work.
As I sat there, I began thinking about how much I admired Vaughn. I felt as if I loved him. He had so many young men working under him and was able to teach them so much while they worked. We all had much respect for him.
I thought about our age difference and how Vaughn was 10 years older than I and the other men working here. Nevertheless, he was still able to relate so well to us. I thought not many men could feel comfortable with younger men like that and teach them as he did.
Finally the others finished their work and prepared to leave. They went downstairs. But it took me about 15 minutes more to finish up. I thought they were all going to leave without me.
I found some photographs of me lying nearby and began looking at them. I looked quite young in most pictures. One picture was of me, but I looked very much like my grandfather Liston. I was old in the picture and my eyes were sunken back into my head. Nevertheless I had a youthful appearance. I was wearing a white shirt in the picture.
I had turned on a light. I wondered if the others had seen the light on, realized I was up there and were waiting for me. Finally I finished and turned the light off.
I headed downstairs. Before I went down, I turned on the stair light. But when I reached the bottom of the stairs, I couldn't find a switch to turn off the light. I thought, "Well, I'll just go ahead and leave it on anyway. I don't want to go back and turn it off. It's not going to waste that much electricity, even if it does stay on all night."
I walked into the front office of the downstairs and found a young man sitting there. He seemed like Weinstein, but he also reminded me of Buckner and Anderson.
I was glad to see him, but he didn't seem happy to see me. He began talking and was very critical of me. It seemed as if he didn't even want to talk to me, so I walked into the neighboring secretary's office and sat down. We were silent for a while, but finally began talking again, even though we couldn't see each other.
He seemed critical of just about everything I was doing. Apparently one time we had been riding around in a car and had had a pact that we weren't going to talk to each other. But I had begun talking to him and he criticized me because I had been unable to maintain silence. He said he had wanted to remain silent.
I wondered if he knew I was now a lawyer. He said something about evidence and that I should know a lot about that now. He seemed to be criticizing the fact I had even become a lawyer. But he didn't directly mention my being a lawyer.
It was late at night. The window was open in the room in which I was sitting. I looked out it and saw a line of women walking toward the window. Right before they reached the window, they made a sharp turn.
I realized they were all nuns and I was amazed to see them out there. I walked over to the window, sat down in a chair directly in front of the window and looked directly at the line of nuns. As the line continued toward the window, the nuns became progressively younger. At the end of the line were some little boys accompanied by some older nuns. One of the little boys had been misbehaving. One of the older nuns grabbed him and began slapping him in the face. A couple men stood nearby watching. The nuns continued walking away.
I walked back into the room where Weinstein was, sat down and began talking with him. I was thinking about showing him my dreams, especially the ones I had corrected with the word processor. I thought he might like to read them. I asked him and he indicated he might want to read them, but he didn't want to read them if I had thoroughly analyzed and explained them.
I told him they were just the dreams themselves. I criticized him for suggesting I would have analyzed them.
I suddenly realized I was dreaming. I awoke, sat down and began writing the dream. I was in a cramped position and was having difficulty writing.
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