I was staying with Norman Lingerman in an apartment or a hotel.  He wasn't there, but I was in his bed.  I had to urinate, and I tried to do it into a container while lying down.  As a result, it all spilled out and flooded his bed.  I was horrified and didn't know what to do.  I was embarrassed to let him know what I had done, but I also felt guilty about just letting it dry and not telling him about it.  I did the latter, though, helping it dry by fanning it, and eventually he returned and lay down apparently without knowing what had happened.  Later, some of his friends invited us to go camping and mountain climbing with them.  First we had to go up several flights of stairs in this building where they lived.  They went very fast and didn't seemed concerned about the fact that I couldn't keep up with them.  Eventually I lost them and so couldn't go with them on the outing.