Had a strange dream last night, one of those oddly coherent dreams that seems like it should mean something. Anyone with a talent for psychology is welcome to take a stab at this one:

It seems to me I am in Mrs. Henningson's room, my junior language arts teacher. On my desk are three very thick testing packets, some multiple choice, some fill in the blank, some essay but mostly, I think, they are short answer. I know I have till ten o'clock tonight to finish everything, so I have no choice but to stay in the room until it is all done.

Still, there's a lot of material here and I'm not even sure what books it's going over. I start leafing through the first packet, wondering if I'm be able to do this at all, when I suddenly realize something that momentarily leaves me breathless. This one is all about one of my own stories.

I grin, realizing how easy this is going to be. Just then, my cell phone rings.

I take it out of my pocket and flip it open to see that my dad is calling me. My dad doesn't usually call, so I'm more curious that anything to know why he's calling. He speaks first.

"I found your digital camera."

"Oh..." I say, embarrassed, and suddenly realizing that I didn't know where it was. "Where did I leave it?"

"You left it at Cedar Point," he says. "Honestly, if you're going to have expensive things you've got to learn not to just leave them around and forget about them."

"Oh..." I say again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apoligize to me, I could have just stolen your camera." And he sounds like he means it, not that he's mad, just that frustrated I would leave a perfectly good digital camera lyign on a bench at Cedar Point. I get the impression that he must have left the house in a hurry and drove a long way to go pick it up as soon as he realized I left it behind, and he did know, somehow, as soon as it happened.

"I've got to finish this exam," I say, gesturing to the papers around me, still kind of embarrassed. "Then I'll come get the camera."

That't it. Don't know what to make of it.