I am in a large space. It is a big interior space, and it is filled with some simple obligation. The obligation is composed of something like an XML parser. I must meet the requirements of the parser through strictly correct formatting. In this large room, like a classroom, I repeatedly, over and over again, work through motions which generate the proper formatting. This involves talking with a bunch of people and working through some simple problems, arranging things, negotiating.

The space has a feel to it that has not been well described here.

Catching trains. Trains, subways. Bouncing back and forth (not exactly yoyoing, but certainly traveling to and from destinations). Dirty grungy red train, and green train. I travel with some friends who are in my academic program and share some of my responsibilities.

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We are presented with a virtual world. There are several movable parts, one of which is some sort of browsing tool. It looks like 3 pyramids connected at the bases, which we then grow and shrink and stretch out to encompass and contain objects.

I am in a class. This time, rather than being in trouble, I am in good shape. It is the very beginning of the class, and I have successfully done my first assignment, and am ready to turn it in. Laura is in the class, too.

I leave the classroom, and start wandering around the building. I have some abilities that I have been neglecting and I want to try to improve, such as flying -- I start by trying to fly up a staircase, and am partially successful. When I get to the top, I imagine myself doing an acrobatic parkour leap off a balcony to a landing in a stairway a floor below, clearing a larger gap in the process, but I decide I am not yet skilled enough in that sort of thing to do it. Instead, I just jump down the stairs with railing support, something I've done thousands of times.

I go to a vehicle, which I get in and start to nap. It is getting late in the day, and I have had a very disrupted sleep schedule lately. I have a meeting with some students I'm doing a final project with. We discuss some details of the project, and discuss whether we're meeting again later in the day. I advocate for not; I want to go home. Outside is a contraption the military is working on, a strange airplane. I feel like an outsider, and somewhat strangely oriented to the conversation and people.

We are getting things ready for Christmas. So many people, and so many things to prepare. There are many of us around, not just the family, but also some experts whom we hired to assist. I find the whole process to be a bit ridiculous. But we go around and around with the experts, to the point that they are almost as close as the family. When Christmas comes and they aren't participating, I am surprised at their absence (though pleased).

I am doing demos, fulfilling obligations for the lab. It is a day full of sponsors, schedules and obligations. Toward the end of the day is a big dinner meeting. The meeting is something of a flop, we were supposed to be there in the groups that had worked on each project speaking with interested sponsors. But the sponsors don't really show, the space where we are meeting is messed up, administratively crippled, not enough tables or chairs. I answer a few general questions about students in the lab and what sort of student is admitted, but then the meeting ends. I browse over the food selections they offer, but I was going out to dinner with laura soon so I just browse slightly hungrily over the selections and pass. I go to another room where I need to change clothes. I'm in a suit and tie. The others in the room are joking around, fun joviality and fun making.

I signed up for a class, but I only attended a couple of lectures at the beginning. It's now very late in the term, and I'm attending again, having missed most of the classes in the middle. It's a field-intensive class, like the one in undergrad which was about the history of San Francisco and involved frequent travel there.

The class is meeting on a bus, which will take us across the water to the place we are examining today. I get on the bus, with my assignment from the previous week and this week in hand. All sorts of unexpected people are around. Neil gets on the bus and requests a piece of paper; I offer a sheet torn out of a notebook I have with lines on one side. He at first refuses, saying he needs blank paper, but then he changes his mind and asks what the pitch of the lines is. I say "something like a quarter inch squares or so", but he asks for millimeters. I pull out the notebook and check with the second to last page, which is like the cover, and gives measurements for the paper. But the measruements are given in english units and some other strange set of units, not metric.

The tour finally takes off. But somehow, I find myself in a train station. It seems like a foreign country. I make my way to the exit, but don't know where the class went. I pick my way around some construction that's going on and make my way through a train platform to the street. Across the street is a large shopping mall (though I think I call it a wal-mart) and inside i see the class. I join them, everyone is examining a new fancy spangled b of a atm. The atm is sequestered in its own separate room, although we have propped the door open to make it easier to get in and look around. The machine not only does face recognition, but if you hold up a bank card it optically reads it, and if you hold up your thumb, it scans it and tells you who you are. I want to try it as a non-customer, but the people in class don't want to mess anything up until we're finished.

I notice the teacher marking down my presence, which brings back the sinking feeling of having missed far too many of these classes.

Waiting for trains. Have to get back in a certain time. The station is busy, and trains of various sizes and to all sorts of destinations come through. Small, big, to near parts of the city, or to distant suburbs. I must have missed the one that goes quickly and directly to my destination.

A girl i am in bed with. Get out to look for a condom. In a lower bunk. A messy room.

Chocolates in a box, handing them out. A large room like a gymnasium, divided by short cubicle/poster walls.

I walk into a cafe. There are fellow students all around, people in classes with me. It's late at night, and it's crunch time; essays are due soon. I've been typing up an essay on a computer, and have gotten pretty far with it, but not yet finished. However, there is an oddness: I am back in time, and people don't have computers yet. I'm supposed to be typing this on a typewriter.

I meet a friend and classmate in the cafe. I was going to be typing up his essay for him. But I can't stand around long to chat; I have left two cars parked outside -- a sedan and a fancy sports car. They're double-parked, and I keep trying to move our conversation so that I can keep my eye on them. I tell him I'm getting on with the paper, but I have more work to do. It's getting close to midnight, and I'll be up late doing this tonight. But then the car gets towed. I miss it, but I look out and the sports car is gone. Or maybe it was stolen. I jump in the other car to see if I can find a tow truck near which might have taken it. I get stuck in traffic, no luck.

I have a desk, and I'm trying to adjust it. I've been working at this desk for a while, on python code. The code is a side project, unnecessary, it is something which is supposed to make a little task I'm doing more efficient. I feel like I had written some key part of it before, so I try to find that code. Where did I put it? Is it on this shelf, on a floppy? How old school, no, it mustn't be there... the desk is sagging. It is a plastic contraption that is adjustable in many ways, via a couple of different buttons on the side. A fellow student comes in and helps me figure out the adjustment; she'd recently done up her office and was familiar with the way they worked more so than I.

The building is shaking. The professor says it is the tanks.

Staying in a hotel. The place is overrun and crowded, people are sleeping in the hallway. I was checking out today, and I have to fight to keep people out of the room before I've packed my things up.

Once I get out, I realize that I may have to join the people in the hallways. I have nowhere to go.

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I am in a version of the media lab. I have been working late. My office is on the fourth floor somewhere. I am evil, I have committed a murder. It is obvious that I have done this, though I'm not sure how or why I did it. A friend comes to me and we start talking about what I should do.