3/21/2023 -
I pull out of an intense hypnagogic state with the song Uptown Girl reverberating through my spirit. It actually sort of skips on the word "Uptown Girl" and does a fast delay echo thing that rocks me into waking consciousness with a jolt like a nitrous high. The WTF factor here is off the charts but later I get a training session on the concept.
In this scenario I have this basketball coach and he's showing me how to properly use this ability and honestly it's not much different than playing basketball. You see, you have this swirling portal of Uptown Girl energy reverberating through your spirit but you can't just use it at full power all the time. That won't work within the context of the game. You have to pace yourself. Play at your own speed. Pick your spots. Let the game come to you. You have to know when to tap into the Uptown Girl force and when to play to your surroundings. You have to read the game and tap into it accordingly. You need to learn how to play slow. You're trying to win the game, not the quarter. I'm seeing this all from a 3rd person perspective. I'm a woman on a basketball court playing in front of a crowded stadium with a coach teaching me how to harness this portal of Bill Joel sound energy to calculatedly become a champion. Got it.
Seems to be a theme of the history class, I get the portal of sound living inside of me thing but Uptown Girl? I'm legit not sure if this is a reference to my dignitary status from the night before or the fact that I did marry a woman who makes quite a bit more money than me. It's probably both.
Later I'm in the Invisible College. Class is starting and I'm chatting with a couple of my classmates, although in doing so it strikes me how much older I must be than them. They don't seem weirded out by it. What sucks though is that the instructor starts teaching and I'm not paying attention. He then walks to the back of the room and calls on me specifically. He's this tall balding overweight grey haired white man dressed in a an incredibly stuffy suit with a vest. Prototypical portrait of old academia. I of course don't have an answer for him. I didn't even catch the question. He keeps prodding me. I look at my notes and I have nothing written down.
He then informs me that he expected as much as I've started this class and blown it off 4 times at this point. This all seems familiar. I offer up my Hashimoto's disease as an excuse and he doesn't care but after he points out to me how many times I've flaked on the class I realize, wait, fuck this shit. This isn't the history class I'm supposed to be taking. I've already graduated anyway. I get up, grab my books and bolt but am once again confused as to how to get home. Then I remember there's a bus on the next street and instinctively get on it. I'm then freaking out because I think I got on the wrong bus but eventually realize that nope, this is the18 and will take me right near my place. That's different.
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