WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

A weird night to say the least. I began rushing to class in a University. (My mother at 98, STILL dreamed of missing class.) The class was to begin at 9:40 and in my dream there were not two clocks that had the same time. Rushing to what should have been the second floor, a maintainance man stopped me and said the stairwells to the west wing had been closed because the floors were wet. Groups of students were herded to another stairwell and I herded along with them. A couple of them I seemed to know and tried to engage in conversation about the whereabouts of the class. To no avail.
I found myself in the most elaborate of lab schools, I guessed kindergarten by the areas designated for housekeeping, blocks and climbing. Security was very tight and I inadvertantly emerged through the curtains of a puppet stage. Someone kindly directed me back through the curtains and into the main hallway where I was certain by this time it would make more sense to go back home than to try to make that class.
I was startled to see my sister as directress of the lab school; primly dressed in a smart navy skirt and vest, and crisp white blouse. She was hurriedly giving directions to a secretary and her arms were loaded with books, binders and the all important clipboard. She waved to me and seemed less surprised to see me than I was to see her. After a cursory wave I meandered to a ladies room where I thought I should change clothes. Two girls whispering and pointing in my direction led me to stop and ask if I knew them.
It seemed they were upset that I had sold school sponsorships to people they had promised (you know, the ads students are always asked to sell) I assured them that I only sold to family and friends. That seemed to satisfy them and I went on my merry way. (Remember this is a DREAM, not an actual event.)
At home I sent to cleaning the kitchen floor, tackling with a vengeance a small corner where rice had spilled, buggy rice, no less, so I needed to sweep tiny bugs along with the rice. I remember thinking I wanted to get the house to it's pristine origins, whatever that might be.
Glancing up I saw my children (now young adults) at about 4 or 5 years old.They were dressed in those wonderful blanket sleepers of the 80's. I remember how wonderful it was to hug their little selves and as I did so, felt deeply sad that they really weren't that little any more. I asked my mother standing in the room if they looked little to her, and she assured me that they were really grown up. It bothered me, in my dream state, that only I could see them as little children.
The house looked like a family getting ready for Christmas and there was a large glass walk-in cabinet in the living room filled to the brim with rotating Christmas ornaments. It resembled a samll version of Frankenmuth. My daughter was reaching up to touch one of the whirling ornaments. As she turned to smile at me, I woke up feeling like I'd been somewhere "other-earthly."
The feelings of that dream have stayed with me most of the day.