Last week, I wrote about how I fly in my dreams by levitating or hovering around on my knees. I noted that I always flew in the same manner. Not anymore.
This morning, I found myself in a meeting with several Asian coworkers. Gilbert, my ex-officemate, was among them. He started speaking in Mandarin because everyone in the group spoke Mandarin. Everyone but me. And he knew this.
Something wasn’t right. Gilbert would never exclude someone from a conversation; I’ve heard him respond in English to a coworker speaking to him in Mandarin simply because I was in the room. That, and Gilbert doesn’t work at my company anymore.
“I must be dreaming,” I thought, “And if I’m dreaming, it means I can fly.” Up I went, floating off my seat and away from the meeting.
I decided to try flying like Superman*.
At first, I had some trouble adjusting my pitch. Once I got that right, I moseyed along at my usual altitude of 5-10 feet. I’m not sure why, but I seem to fly only where I can walk. How do I know this? Because I decided I’d go to Berkeley, and instead of flying across the bay I flew down a couple flights of escalators and into a BART train. Caught the last train of the night!
When I arrived in Berkeley, it was morning. I walked around and marveled at its new developments. They’d redone the ASUC in an open, woodsy, hippie manner to impress the alums into giving money**. I looked around a bit and headed to the student store to shop for golden T-shirts***.
All of a sudden, it was 8:19 AM. Oh no, I was late for my 8 AM teleconference with Russia!
Then I woke up. It was 6:56 AM, four minutes before my alarm that had been set to give me enough time to prepare for my real life 8 AM teleconference with Russia. Phew.
* Ooh, new trick!
** I got a solicitation for money from the Cal Alumni Association last night.
*** I’ve been wanting a golden Cal T-shirt the last couple weeks and thinking that I need to pay the student store a visit.