The Labrynth of the Mind

I am back at a community college that I went to at one time. I have a lot of happy memories here, and often dream of it. I am walking down the hallway to a class I am taking, and realize that I have not explored much of the college since I went back. This is the last night of this semester for me, and I think I should take a walk to the other end of the hall.

While I am still on my way to class (I never do make it to the other end of the hallway) I meet some people I used to know. I had been worrying lately about losing interest in some places like this that are important to me, but while I am talking to them I realize that I am in a wonderful place. Then I have to go to class.

I sit down at my desk, and look out the window. There is a tall brick smokestack just out the window in this dream, and I "remember" looking at it when I used to go to school here. As I look at it the smokestack changes in height and width, and I think even collapses at one point. I just watch passively, and it has no effect on me.

The instructor is wrapping up the class, and we are supposed to clean out our desks before we leave. In our desks are computers, which are small things that plug into some kind of printer device. Everyone else in the class has an easy time plugging these things together and leaving. Mine does not seem to fit together though.