Into the Whirlpool

No recall for 8/20.

Moving Day
I'm moving into a college dorm of some sort, although I'm not carrying anything. I head up a stairway that's crowded with college-age kids, all chattering happily and getting to know each other. I see someone that looks an awful lot like Cara F. and for a second I think it actually is her, but then realize I'm wrong. The idea of a… dolphin-person?… comes into my head and I'm not sure whether I'm looking for a creature like this or if it's just a random mental image. There's a bend in the stairway and I continue up. Apparently Britney Spears is somewhere in the crowd; I pass a girl with black hair and hear her announce "I don't know about all that, I just know I'm talking to Britney Spears right now."

The stairway lets into a lobby-like area. There's a board with a list of names and their expected arrival dates; I'm on there and my date is listed as the 18th, which I know is "today", at least as far as the dream goes. There are only a few people listed under this date, but a lot more are arriving on the 19th and 20th, so I must be a little on the early side. Next to my name (just my first name) is my email address, but it's written strangely, with parentheses inserted and the @ sign spelled out as "at". I realize it's a spam blocking measure… but everything on the chart is hand-written, so what's the point? Also, obfuscation aside, I don't think my email address is actually spelled correctly.

I realize that instead of moving in right away I could be out socializing with the others and breaking the ice a little… it's typical of me not to think of something like that until after the fact.

Walking through the hallway of my middle school, past the library. I know I'm an adult but still find myself a little confused about whether I'm attending classes here. I reach the front hallway and head down to Miss Powell's room. There's a kind of eager anticipation at the idea of seeing her again after so long.

I'm inside the classroom and I don't see Miss Powell, but on a desk in the middle of the room is a shallow plastic bowl filled with chocolate-frosted cupcakes. I take a couple and see that there's also some kind of additional chocolate topping in the bowl that's meant to go on top of the cakes. I start to take some of this, but as I do I realize that there's actually no topping in the bowl; I'm just picking up more cupcakes. The bowl's almost empty, and I'm not even sure I want to eat any of them.