12:20:2003 Entry: "Ann : DREAM - Voting"
DREAM - Voting
I was on the Colorado State university campus, I think. I was walking around near where the chemistry building was (perhaps I was between classes?) and began to sing Pink Floyd's "Pigs (Three Different Ones)". (Dejavu...didn't I have that song in a dream before? Probably my favorite Floyd song). I first started to hum, then sing very quietly, afraid people would think I was crazy for singing to myself, and then I just started to SING, not caring who would hear or anything. Then I went into a building and was sitting around a table with a bunch of people talking about whacky subject matter. We all decided to get fish submarine sandwiches or something, and because one person wasn't present but we were talking to him on the phone, we got him a fish submarine sandwich as well. I guess the person on the phone didn't have such a good sense of humour, because he criticized us for getting him a fish submarine sandwich because it would go to waste because he wasn't there to eat it and he wouldn't eat it anyway because he didn't like fish. I was a bit offended by his offense and his lack of humour about it, and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind about it, but we went on a break or something and I never got a chance to talk to him. Then I was with Stan and we had to walk over to East High in Madison for some odd reason...I think to go to vote, like our precinct changed. (I've never been in any school in Madison except Georgia O'Keefe Middle school which is our voting precinct). As we walked over there, we were walking through buildings as opposed to walking down sidewalks outside. It was as if our entire neighborhood was industrial or institutional instead of mixed use residential (or whatever we are). I remember remarking to Stan that I didn't understand why Tim couldn't vote at East High because I thought that was the closest to where he lives. (The irony, is that IRL, that *IS* where he votes). I guess we didn't enter in the main entrance where all the signs were that pointed to the polling place, so we're lost in the labyrinthine basement of East High, that looked like it housed an actual industry, like printers or something. Stan and I entered one opening, and realized it opened onto a conveyor belt. We hopped off the conveyor belt and wandered around and found some people who didn't even care that we were there. Then I asked a man working there how to get back to the polling place. That man turned out to be my dad. I was thinking "I thought you retired years ago." We eventually fond our way to the main floor, which had lots of "half floors", i.e., half flights of stairs that went up a half story, and then down the other side. It was also covered with elaborate carpeting and woodwork, not something that would be in a high school, but a very fancy apartment building. I think we were still lost and still couldn't find our way to the polls.