SCPantera's Dream Journal

I'm evidently back in high school again, trying out for the annual play. It's some Sherlock Holmes play directed by Mr. Lucas, much to my surprise I end up with the lead role (I should note now after the fact that the fact I knew it was directed by Lucas should have been a red flag, he would never put me in a decent role). It's early in the week but I seem to think that the play will debut that Thursday so we're already in dress rehearsal and somehow I already know most of my lines (or am completely improvising them). My costume, heavily unfinished, is mostly large pieces of wool cloth held together by pins. As we get to the end of the dress rehearsal I line up at the end for the curtain call, but they wave me up to the front since I'm the lead. I apologize making my way up through the tight space--I'm not used to not playing insignificant shit roles. After my exit (I note a curious lack of Watson hereabouts), I hopped off the stage and left, eager to tell my dad about Fargo North High School's production of Sherlock Holmes.

It seemed to cut to what was either me in bed at home; I suspect I may have gone there from the school in the previous dream but it feels more likely that it was a false awakening because I recognized that something wasn't right (I awoke in a strange room that was clearly not mine) and did a reality check. I was lucid for a moment, I closed my eyes and kept my nose pinched to try to collect focus but it dissolved back to my bed in real life--my hands had clearly dissolved back to my real hands which were nowhere near my nose and additional reality check confirmed it. I guess I'll add it to my lucid tally, but it was disappointingly short.