Question: What being a good friend entails.
I was on a mini-golf course, which for some reason was pink and spiky. The goal was to get on the other side. I don’t know why. As I crawled through the course, people kept pelting golf balls on me, which of course made it harder. My computer science genius friend (CSGF) next to me navigated the course splendidly, dodging golf balls like she had trained for it. Which is funny because she is one of the least athletic people I know–she has to push her bike up slopes.
I’m not sure if I made it to the end of the course or not before the backdrop changed and I was in the lounge of my dorm. Another one of my CSGFs (also unable to bike uphill) was sitting on the couch. Suddenly, it occurred to me that it was her birthday, and I should smother her with a pillow. Because that’s what good friends do. I was walking over, but suddenly (again, because things never seem to happen gradually in dreams) my high school friends sprang up, scattered throughout the lounge, doing yoga. I tried to walk between them to get to Katheryn, but I accidentally touched one and they all collectively fell on top of me. Then my parents walked in, exclaimed that Katheryn was sick and tucked her into bed. Ironically, that’s when I woke up.
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