I'm packing to go to M City to visit my parents. I have things in 3 different places so it's all confusing to me. I have stuff at my school dorm room, at the house in M City (remodeled), and at a third place. Ginny drives me from place to place. I'm trying to remember all the important things like my book that I'm writing, some clothes, and my toothbrush. When I'm at the M City house, I see it's all changed. The bathroom's been moved up stairs and the stairs are hard to walk up. Ginny helps me. I get up there. Jake, with a bald head but young, is standing in the shower part of the bathroom. He's angry. I think he's been sent there as a punishment. I ask him to leave for a minute. I try to sit on the toilet, but a potty trainer device is on it and it's very uncomfortable. I admire the size of the room and its new pink color. I then go get in my beat up red pickup truck (like Dwight's), and drive to the dorm to get my toothbrush. I look in the mail box and wonder why I don't get as much mail as I used to as a teenager. I think, "It's getting late and dark, and it's a long drive and I still have to stop somewhere to get a hamburger." I suggest to Ginny (mom) that we drive caravan, but she wants to go on because I'm taking too long. I feel frustrated and inept. She commiserates with me. It's because of the remodeling that I can't easily find the things I want to take with me. Then, I'm looking at a tennis match. I think, "I can play tennis." I get out there and miss a serve and make another mistake. The officials then look at the ball. It's been doctored so it's an unfair match. The officials call the game and bring this information to everyone's attention. The women's team is upset and angry. Someone says, "Rematch, only with a fair ball." I take the challenge. I go to the official and say, "Give me a good ball." She says, "Do you want a standard one, or will you make your own?" I decide to make my own. I shape it out of pink gooey stuff. 4 big guys are on the men's side waiting. I feel tense and sure of myself. Then, as I make the ball, I feel unsure and scared. I decide not to chance making my own. I say, "Give me a good standard ball, then there's no question about its weight." I then see an "instant" replay of the decision about the unfair ball. As I watch, a man with a camera comes close up to my face. I feel like crying because of the injustice of an unfair ball. As the tears start to flow, he starts to take a picture. He's encouraging me to cry. "Come on honey, that's it." I feel exploited and turn to him, with an angry face and yell, "Just what do you think you're doing?!" I then go out on the court and take the 4 men on one at a time. I'm good. I beat them. They are very surprised (I wake up because I hear an odd voice in my mind saying, "Knock, knock, knock, knock." I thought someone was in the room or outside my door until I woke up).