9:30am

. . .Woke up with a rather interesting dream, probably filled with a lot of the more prevalent emotions in my life. I was in school, in the caf, and I was really hungry, so I bought an extra lunch combo or something. Which ended with a total of $21.46 or something. Which was definitely more than I had for a school caf. lunch. Anyways, midway through my meal, I realize that I have to be upstairs (maybe 2 floors up) to take this test or something... Don't remember the course code or whatever. I wandered through the maze-like room, 'til I found a librarian who was able to explain some of the other stuff related to it. This prompts me to remember what the test was about -- the human heart (physical), so I gotta remember which one is the main artery and which is the jugular vein... or something. Suddenly I bumped into a guy-friend from HS (let's call him RCH for anymity). He leads me to where he is -- the room across from where I was. Apparently it's some sort of studio. (In real life he's worked as a model with quite some success.) But he wasn't shooting anything today; he was "working", which probably meant he was helping training newer people or something.
. . .We chat for a bit, then he asks what I'm up to. He definitely wants to get together. I tell him where I'll be for the next lil while as I want to meet up with him too. He says when he's finished there in the studio, he'll find me.
. . .Back in the heart-test room, I realize that it's around 4:15 now, and the place closes at 6:30, so I don't have a lot of time to study, especially since the last test session was held at 4:00, and I think the next one would be 4:30 or 5:00. But that's not really important, as long as I really learn the stuff. I suddenly realize that I didn't finish my lunch yet (or pay, even though I couldn't afford it), so I go back down to the caf, which now has reduced lighting. I try to find a well-lit area, and have just barely pulled out my books and written 2 lines when RCH approaches me out of nowhere.
. . .He looks really awkward, and sheepish, and he's blushing quite a bit (at this point, I think we're seeing things in cartoon now instead of real life). "Do you... ... wanna go skating with me...?" I'm swept with emotion, until I finally calm down to accept (thereby abandoning my books and still not paying for my lunch).
. . .Oddly, this dream ended up representing several things in my life. I'm not sure if seeing them or realising them is going to help me o'ercome them or anything, but at least I know what's going on.
Hungry - weight freight. I've been gaining quite some weight recently, and since I *know* it's not a result of exercise or healthy eating, I'm rather concerned to the point of paranoia. (my waist size has also gone up quite a bit. All of you who know me already know that I'm quite thin.)
$21.46 - poverty. Simply, I'm not rich. I'd like to be, but I'm not. There's no use pretending to have something that I don't, right? Unfortunately, money is a bit of a necessity in this world. (and the lack of it might also relate to the first issue addressed in my dream.)
Heart Test - school. My need to do well, and my unfortunately inclination to not study well all term. I.e. only cramming everything in the last few weeks.
RCH - RCH. He's someone very real and very alive (hopefully). He's someone who in a way has affected my life dramatically, but at the same time is no longer in my life. I wrote about him before, sorta, but not specifically. Basically, he was a tall, clean, fashionably dressed, charismatic Candian-born Asian, who somehow was able to befriend a HS me (we won't go into details of the old me). We were friends. At least, I think we were friends. It's so hard to tell when you're a guy and you don't ever think about these sorts of things.
In any case, we did stuff that mere acquaintences wouldn't do (which won't be specified here because it'd make it too easy to name RCH). Sorta kept in touch after HS, but communications were mostly one-sided. (I.e., I'd call, invariably end up leaving a message on his cell, then he'd maybe call back a week later.) And this was sorta o.k., since I knew he was really busy with school and work, and I was just a nerd at a nerd school who occassionally came back to the city on weekends. And this was fine. Until one weekend, after a tiresome greyhound ride back into Toronto, in which I decide to call up some friends to see if they're free to hang out for the weekend. But I'm tired, so my speech is filled with awkward phrasing.
"...and I was wondering if you wanted to get back together..."
I didn't realise it until seconds after I hung up. And being the tired (and therefore panicky) person that I was, I immediately call back and apologize for my weirdness, explaining that I was very tired and therefore my speech shouldn't be taken too seriously.
But anyways, the feelings of embarrassement and potential awkwardness were too much for me, and he never called anyways, so I guess that's one "friend" I'll never see again in my life. Which is kinda sad cuz he was one of the few people in the world I had an easier time talking to. But I guess life is like that sometimes -- one can't be expected to be able to stay in contact with all one's friends from childhood, right? But does that make it silly of one for wanting to try? Anyways...
Time - time. Or my obsession with time. I hate being late, and I hate it more when others are late. N. America seems to be one of the few areas in which time is still an approximation, despite being a collection of allegedly developed nations. The best example is Japan, where 8:17 really means 8:17. If the schedule says that the train leaves at 8:17, it doesn't mean 8:15, or 8:20, but 8:17. Which means if your watch isn't in sync with the rest of the nation, you're screwed. ...or comfortably early for everything. Yes, I know that it's all subjective anyways. But in the abstract sense that everything is subjective. The measure of time, the length of an inch, the weight of a pound. All things are arbitrary. But not knowing what your world looks like is more or less useless. Keeping an open mind is important, but there's also a practical aspect to living in a physical world. Which in a sense, is saying that all mathematicians are professionals at being in denial.
. . .Gosh, that was a needlessly long post. At least the reader was perhaps entertained by the thought processes that run rampantly through my brain.