I am in a room with two clients and the professor. The woman is very rude and child-like. The man is very insecure and the community college student, like the professor, is very pompous. He sort of takes over the questioning. The woman whines and complains, interrupts the man's story and takes the conversation into different directions at the drop of a hat. I give up. I can't get her to shut up so I can counsel and don't really try to hard. It is so funny to be watching the dynamics of those 3. The professor says, "Let's reverse role play." The man says, "That's not necessary." I say, "It is, because we can't see what's wrong in ourselves. We need to be shown." He doesn't like it. Later, I'm at a hotel, a convention. The guy comes over to explain how much better he's doing and describes how he's opening conversation with people now. I am very pleased for him and sort of wonder why he's following me around on my off hours telling me this. I walk to the elevator and get in. It's very similar to the counseling room. That woman is there. I sit in a rocking chair, I insist. I say, "I need it." The woman is crying very dramatically about someone having died and left her. I don't want to hear anymore clients. Now the elevator gets stuck. Other people are on it. Someone is murdered in an adjoining room. No one knows who did it. The elevator, which was out of control, stops finally. A small man with grey hair pops out fast. I suspect him. Then another one, very similar, hops out of a panel near the door and runs out. Now it's a James Bond movie, like, we chase after, the crazy professor spy laughing and keeping up a steady chatter, the woman and I. The spy gets on a plane and 3 planes take off. I watch as the first one catches on fire and explodes, then the second and then the third. Now we are sort of survivors of that. It's snowing, like the North pole. Survival is difficult. My character, now male, puts his feet up on a hot stove, lights a cigarette lighter and has some hot coffee and food. "Fortunately," he says, "we have the means for survival. Too bad he's here," referring to the crappy professor who is setting up a sleeping bag. "He can stand anything as long as I don't touch his Mary." The professor echoes, "That I couldn't stand." The man, "or that other woman." Professor, "I could stand that, but I wouldn't like it." The man, "or...." Professor, "I could stand that..." on it goes.