I was packing up in preparation to head off for my military service but I had no idea what I was supposed to bring. I ended up bringing up the bare minimum because I wasn’t even sure what I was allowed to bring. When I got to the meeting area, everyone else was already lined up and names were being called out. I realized that everyone else had brought things like their laptops and other electronics with them while I had only packed my clothes. I asked someone if I could run back home to get my things.

We took separate paths around the block but ended up at the front door at the same time. As we walked inside, I copied the person in front of me and set the book of sheet music I was holding down next to the door. Someone saw this and asked me what I was doing. Apparently the other person only set their music at the door because they had already memorized all their pieces.

We were playing the new Smash Brothers and we realized that hitboxes were a little strange. Namely, Link’s up smash hit only those strictly above his model and longer hit people on the ground around him.

It was the first day of class and we were asked to take out our notebooks. I looked in my bag to see that I hadn’t brought anything with me today. I made the assumption that we wouldn’t need anything on the first day. Fortunately we were handed back out notebooks that we turned in at the end of last semester. I opened it to the first blank page as I walked back to the desk and waited for further instructions.

I was playing a game which was set in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. The player however had very little agency in the game as it was made clear that we were not the main character in the story. Player input was limited as we mostly acted as an observer to the chaos unfolding before us.

We were walking through the library that was currently displaying an assorted collection of art throughout its halls. The third floor featured a series of impressionistic oil paints that were supposedly from a local high school student. I stopped to look at each piece which seemed depict children curled up in the midst of swirling tendrils or faceless towering crowds. I felt a deep sense of loneliness rather than fear or anger emanating from the canvas.

Everyone had already left but I was still looking for the pink Betta fish in the swimming pool. The people up on the roof above were asking me what was taking so long.

The scheduled career services event had ended earlier than expected so one of the coordinators said that they were able to do individual reviews if needed. They asked if I had revised my resume since we last met. I had not.

I was playing a Mario game where every “screen” moved to another screen projected onto the wall. I eventually reached a point where I was on the screen next to the door and was unable to progress unless I continued playing in the next room over. I opened to door into the hall and saw that the lights in the neighboring room were already on. I later heard a flush of the toilet from down the hall. Apparently my mom was reading in the room that only contained a white wooden table and chair under the yellow light. She said I would be able to progress the game if I reconnected the projector to my own computer without needing to switch rooms.

It had been a long day and she invited me to stop by her apartment. I took her up on the offer, as I was so drained that I felt like I could pass out any moment. “Can I look through your music?” she asked on the way back. I told her that I was kind of embarrassed about sharing that kind of stuff but I agreed anyways.