I’m hanging out after school with my junior high algebra teacher. It’s a vaguely flirting conversation we have.
I’m working on an test question, an essay question. The page is labeled 10/10 for page 10 of 10. I take the whole hour of our time to work on the essay.
Now the regular class fills in; the classroom is my high school physics classroom, though the subject is humanities.
Students fill in the class. They are completely at ease. They all took the test at home: not just page 10, but pages 1 through 9.
I beg to do the entire test; my classmates laugh.
I receive pages 1 through 9. There are multiple choice questions with unfamiliar diagrams. The essay was tough going; this is even worse: I can’t wrestle down these multiple choice questions.
The teacher leaves momentarily and the students, without fear and in casual progress, exchange tests, improving each others answers.
A girl at the back of the room is so bored she has a relaxed spontaneous orgasm.
In an attempt to concentrate better, I move up to the front of the class on the right-hand side, but it’s no use. Frustrated, I stand up and approach the teachers desk. In an honest confession I quit the test and turn it in.
After this dream, two other dreams follow with the same tension and then quiting of a test or trial; I forget the dramatic contents.