I was walking down Mass. Ave and realized that I had to go to class. My classroom building was somewhere between Harvard and Porter and I knew I was going to be late so I had to run like hell. I finally got there needless to say, panting, nervous and covered in sweat. The rest of the class already seemed assembled and those that weren't seated were wandering around the classroom looking at various items. Like the shelves of Pop Tarts and Lays.

It was not at all strange to me that we were having class in a convenience store -- in fact it seemed perfectly normal. We were seated at tables similar to those in my old Physics lab at BU, but we were being taught art. I had a huge drawing of a vase of flowers in front of me, but for some reason I panicked last minute and erased it, replacing it with a drawing of two really old people. After doing this I felt much better until I realized that I was supposed to have a drawing of flowers - so frantically before the teacher came in I tried to somehow squeeze in a vase of flowers next to the old people. The teacher finally came in, the teacher was in fact Phil Donahue. He started to collect what we were drawing -which suddenly became paintings -- and because I was nervous I got up and went down the isle stopping to pick up a pack of frosting (not frosted mind you, frosting) Pop Tarts.

Next somehow I was in another building, it was a building full of computer labs that had elevators that led nowhere. Very weird. I kept going up and down in the elevator and nothing was happening. I began to get frightened until finally the door open into a small room with a computer. Rows and rows and rows of really odd characters that kept scrolling down the screen. I tried to get it to stop but it woulnd't and I became annoyed and started to pound on it.

Next thing I know my boyfriend is in the room with me telling me he had to go meet Cher for lunch.