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Exam dream
One of the things that I most appreciate about post-degree (BSc 1st Hons.) life is the lack of exams - stressful silent two-hour stretches (if you're lucky) with just you and a piece of paper. So my brain chose to invent one for me in a dream.
I think I was back in the academy - at least, I think I recognized a few of the people in my year from then. We started off in a normal room that had been laid out as an exam hall with individual little desks, where we had to sign our name on a piece of paper - then we were led to a different part of the school (which had a strange address, like 1712 Bradford or something) to be given the laptops we were meant to use for the test.
This part of the school was laid out more like a common area, with coffee-shop like tables and multi-tiered sofas scattered around. A large man was going around handing out laptops along with a confusing array of discs - a training course on how to use the computer, a couple of discs for the actual exam, and another sort of startup disc that was in a clear diskette-like case. We chose our seats - I went to a desk with individual cubbies at the side of the room - and opened up our laptops.
This was when I discovered that mine was full of jam. It was in this state because it had been used as the model in one of the photos for the training course, where the message was "Never use this laptop while driving" - the slide showed a man with his face smashed into the laptop between him and the steering wheel, with the jam standing in for blood leaking out of his ears and piled on his face. I tasted it (it was raspberry, and quite nice) and alerted the examiner who had been handing them out, then did my best to clean it off with some paper towels, but the headphones were still sticky.
I tried to go through the training course, but I kept on getting distracted by other things happening on the computer - messages, emails and so on - and was worried about finding the time to even get on to the exam. Suddenly, I arrived home in my childhood bedroom in my parents' house, and realized that the exam was a take-home exercise that was due in three weeks rather than the three hours that I had thought. I wanted to make progress anyway, but my room was full of plastic boxes of electronic junk with no space to work. Some of it was even outside the window on th ledge.
I thought about what would happen if it rained, and chose to haul them in again, around someone who was standing there painting the window from the outside, piling them underneath and on top of a fold-out table and looking through them as I carried them. Most of it I couldn't imagine having a use for - they were mostly medical devices, dials and readouts that were meant to be connected to other equipment to function. The few things that had recognizable labels came from an opthalmologist's office, and the largest of the collection was a foot-wide circular metal unit which housed a laser used for eye surgery.
I woke up before starting the exam or finding out what it was for.
I think I was back in the academy - at least, I think I recognized a few of the people in my year from then. We started off in a normal room that had been laid out as an exam hall with individual little desks, where we had to sign our name on a piece of paper - then we were led to a different part of the school (which had a strange address, like 1712 Bradford or something) to be given the laptops we were meant to use for the test.
This part of the school was laid out more like a common area, with coffee-shop like tables and multi-tiered sofas scattered around. A large man was going around handing out laptops along with a confusing array of discs - a training course on how to use the computer, a couple of discs for the actual exam, and another sort of startup disc that was in a clear diskette-like case. We chose our seats - I went to a desk with individual cubbies at the side of the room - and opened up our laptops.
This was when I discovered that mine was full of jam. It was in this state because it had been used as the model in one of the photos for the training course, where the message was "Never use this laptop while driving" - the slide showed a man with his face smashed into the laptop between him and the steering wheel, with the jam standing in for blood leaking out of his ears and piled on his face. I tasted it (it was raspberry, and quite nice) and alerted the examiner who had been handing them out, then did my best to clean it off with some paper towels, but the headphones were still sticky.
I tried to go through the training course, but I kept on getting distracted by other things happening on the computer - messages, emails and so on - and was worried about finding the time to even get on to the exam. Suddenly, I arrived home in my childhood bedroom in my parents' house, and realized that the exam was a take-home exercise that was due in three weeks rather than the three hours that I had thought. I wanted to make progress anyway, but my room was full of plastic boxes of electronic junk with no space to work. Some of it was even outside the window on th ledge.
I thought about what would happen if it rained, and chose to haul them in again, around someone who was standing there painting the window from the outside, piling them underneath and on top of a fold-out table and looking through them as I carried them. Most of it I couldn't imagine having a use for - they were mostly medical devices, dials and readouts that were meant to be connected to other equipment to function. The few things that had recognizable labels came from an opthalmologist's office, and the largest of the collection was a foot-wide circular metal unit which housed a laser used for eye surgery.
I woke up before starting the exam or finding out what it was for.