There was something about various colored objects that al fit perfectly into sort of puzzle-like holes. This meant it was good dreams for dream reporting. Now the scene shifts and I'm in a clinical-looking place like a hospital, but it is a dream lab, but I don't know what to describe what it looks like. It has a hospital atmosphere, but it's a large apartment building. It reminds me of the hospital Martin Orne's mother and father run in Boston on Commonwealth Ave. Some guy with blond hair keeps hopping up and down putting on this white _ length coat and admitting new subjects. I'm one of the veterans here because I've only got one night to go. One new subject is just being admitted and this fellow points out to him his bed and gives him a bill. It's more like a hotel too, gives him a bill and the bill says something like $11 per night and the new subject wants to know if he should pay immediately. Then the blond fellow gives him a little check, like a hat check tag, and that will cost him 50 cents. Then he notes that his bed is all made up and has a reservation card on it. Then the scene shifts again somewhat. It's kind of a beach, promenade place, lots of people walking up and down. The ones that catch my eye, however, are very intense, very good-looking older men. They remind me of photographs I've seen of my father. I'm thinking to myself from the way these men look they're obviously homosexuals on the make, and I seem to have wondered into a choice spot for them to meet. Then it's like I'm back in the dream lab, and I'm thinking to myself of course what else could you think because all you find in a sleep lab, a dream lab, are a bunch of men who are sleeping together as though I'm saying to myself: "How dense can you get that you didn't see this before?" The scene shifts again, and I'm like in a mental hospital. It reminds me a little bit of Boston Psycho and the VA hospital in Bedford, and I'm walking down a hall and have to go through many doors as you do in Bedford, locking in, locking each one along the way. At one of them I sort of jostle a very good-looking girl who's with another girl. They're both patients in this hospital. I can't just hurry on because I have to lock and unlock all the doors as I go and I can see that this is just enough time for this girl to make whatever kind of a fuss she's going to make. She looks at me and thinks I'm very good-looking and starts to come after me and I'm locking and unlocking doors along the way. It doesn't work out that way so much. I stop and I say, "I apologize." That's what it is. She says, "What did you say?" I say again, "I apologize." This was too much because apparently she was somewhat taken by me anyway, just from looking and now I actually talked to her. I was courteous and now she's really got a thing on me and starts following me down the hall. The scene shifts again and I'm walking along a street that, a famous street of bookstores. They seem to be bookstores that have become so famous and so good they've turned themselves into libraries. As a matter of fact, one has the feeling that the New York Public Library and Widener Library are around this neighborhood, and I run into Harry Rand and Ginia Hoffman. I think Ginia and I must be going in the same direction because I'm going back to work at Brandeis, but as we walk along, it develops that there are some new buildings built there and now we work in different office buildings. I remember we were very happy and warm toward each other. As I turned to leave Ginia, sort of forgetting herself for a moment, and more or less by reflex, puckers up her lips more or less as to kiss me goodbye.  It's an interesting reversal actually. There's been a number of times when I meet Ginia after quite a while that I start to put my arm around her and then I catch myself, partially because I remember that she's not like in my family, but also because it's clear she wouldn't go for this. Yet with women that she works with, she's just the opposite.