Oh, these dreams.
I had another dream and awoke laughing.
I dreamed...I was somewhere learning. It was a big, modern place. There were many other people there. (Note: I dream about learning a great deal. I'm often in class or at school, trying to learn.)
Anyway, between classes, I needed to use the restroom, to be common, the toilet, to be coarse, latrine in military terminology or the shitter, i.e., the facilities.
The door was locked but the urge to go was gaining momentum in my dream.
Finally, the door opened, one man left and I rushed in. In my haste, I didn't look the door.
The toilet was at the other end of a long room, narrow tiled restroom. I realized I hadn't locked the door. I hoped no one else would enter. I realized that I didn't have my glasses on and couldn't see. I realized that someone else seemed to have taken a dump in the corner, to one side. I realized I might be stepping in it, that it might be getting all over me and my clothing and gear.
Another man came in to use the room, then another. A queue was forming. I was trying to discreetly do my business as others watched, find my glasses and avoid the shit that I was sure was off to one side. I also wanted to explain to everyone, that's not my shit. It was there when I got here.
Finding my glasses, I put them on. To my relief, I had not stepped in the shit. None was it on me. Yet I changed clothes anyway. It was apparently part of a plan. After changing, I washed and exited, leaving the queue to do its thing. Out in the main hall, large and high, like an airport concourse, I met with others. Are you ready? one asked. Yes, I replied, but then looked down.
The tan shorts I was wearing were shorter than I liked. They felt tight. I adjusted them the best that I could by discreetly pulling at the crotch, legs and rear end. There was nothing I could do about it, I realized, so I told them, yes, I'm ready.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com