I am on a Dream Bus. A group of us are doing a dream workshop on the bus. It's a bit hectic and crowded. On my right sits a man I like and he likes me. He is sweet-faced and kissy. He's new to all this and asking some questions about the workshop. He asks, "Where's the Merton Circle?" I point over across the way to a group of people with their backs to the front of the bus and pointed away from us. I say, "There they are." I am a bit surprised they do not include me. I notice they are watching a TV, monitor of the presentation we are seeing from the front main screen. Now this man and I move up front to a two-seater bench and are cuddling. The boss of the trip, a loud belligerent man, comes up and starts giving orders and so on. I feel defiant and I ask him deliberate questions and make direct statements that he doesn't want to hear. Other people are nervous and waiting for me to get nailed for being so uppity. I feel this freeing sensation of power. I'm telling the truth as I see it and to hell with the consequences. Now the crowd in the bus is chaotic and noisy and he's trying to control it and I make suggestions and try to control it. It doesn't work, of course. I'm trying to prioritize the three tasks that are needed to be accomplished. One task is to check and see who really belongs on the bus and throw the imposters out. The second is to get them to cooperate and not be such a milling, noisy crowd and then the third is some woman's wish to sweep the bus up with her broom and tidy things up.