Roofless Timebomb and Adult Sex-Ed Dream

 I wonder if my dreams mean something. I question if I'll be dreaming when I'm roofless. That's the word I've come up with because I've already become "homeless", but have always had a roof to sleep under. This time limit is like a time bomb ticking down to an impending implosion. I don't know which wires to snip, so I'm just sitting here entranced by the numbers counting down on the display. I sense a finality, but I know somehow I won't be around to hear the "Boom, Click, or Fizzle".

 Last night's dream was weird, but aren't they all? Remembering the yard scene, I see the anthill I approached. It was about eight inches tall by five inches in diameter. I called out to the others that I had found it, then kicked it into flying dust with my boot. Ants came out in every direction, sending me running to the trampoline. At the edge of the trampoline, I came upon a single albino giant ant that was stuck in the grass, waving it's limbs as if it were attempting to suck in air but failing.

 Next thing I know I'm in a traditional factory classroom. Adult sex-ed was the subject. I don't recall if I had a partner, or if people were involved in any hands-on training, but I do remember following a woman,(who belonged to someone else) down the hall, past the lockers to retrieve a blanket. Dragging the blanket on the shiny linoleum floor behind her, I found myself staring at her nudeness in an appreciative stare. Although I was aroused, I felt no impulse to take her or even suggest something of the sort. When we returned to the classroom someone had commented " I know why you wanted to help her", insinuation that the only reason I had agreed to escort her was so that I could get an eyeful of her natural beauty from behind. I didn't believe it to be so, but I didn't argue.

 I got sent on another errand, to give a message to the teller at the diner next door.  At the counter, I saw a long lost friend of mine, Micheal. He looked different because I had never seen him so thin or with freckles, but it was his voice and mannerisms. He was telling the cashier an involved story that seemed to border on bragging when I approached the window beside him. Another man, positioned on the other side of Mike, near the wall, had chimed in. When I called him by the wrong name, he paused with an embarrased reticence before he continued speaking with the teller. I then spoke my request to the red-haired woman behind the glass then made my way to the exit. Before leaving I saw a loving couple in a booth and wondered why they weren't in the class next door.

 Upon my return to the classroom I told someone that I was going to get a prostate exam. They told me that they'd never get one and acted as if it were exactly like paying a gay prostitute to "bust your butt cherry".

 I then woke up to the sound of a light switch being flipped.