Gooooooooooooooooal!

I'm in Chicago with Shoe to watch a play. There's some audience participation to it, and at one point the lead male hands me a tablet with some lines on it. I get down in the middle of the aisle and begin petting a dog (who is also a member of the cast). Apparently, my "character" is close to this dog.  When I get my cue, I go to read my lines.  However, the lines are written in sloppy cursive and I have trouble getting them out.  Even worse, they continue on another page, but not the next page, so while I'm trying to find the rest of my lines, I try improvising by rambling. After a lot of stuttering, I find the final page of my lines and blurt them out unconvincingly. The play continues as I get back into my chair. In the second act, the two actors sit in the aisles and speak gibberish to one another.  However, I figure out that they're actually speaking in anagrams. At one point, they get up and go back to the stage, and I figure they had been screwing up their lines, as the last line spoken was, "Let's abort," though in anagram form.

After the play was over, I was disappointed to run into a ton of people I knew. Nick and Ben were there, which was okay, but so was Nicole, and several coworkers.  I was embarrassed that they had to see me screw up my lines. I tried to find the main actor after the play to show him why I screwed them up, but he was nowhere to be found. I find Nick and Ben eating lunch in a lobby, and Nick says he's decided to move to Chicago with Jeanne and settling down.

Now I'm in gym class playing soccer. I had heard on the radio previously that I was drafted fourth on my team. Our teams plays horribly, down 3-0 after two periods (out of three). But we quickly score in the third period, but with five minutes left we were still down 3-1. I get a corner kick but it ricochets off a defender back out the other direction. So the girl on our team takes the corner kick from the opposite end. It quickly gets blocked, and the defender gives it to the goalie to send it down the field. But the goalie shanks his kick, and the girl lobs the ball to me, all alone by the goal. I redirect if off my chest and into the goal!

With under a minute left, we make another charge and get a shot on goal.  It trickles slowly down, but doesn't have enough juice.  However, one of the opponents picks the ball up with his hands inside the box.  Penalty shot! However, the other team still gets to line up their guys to block the goal. We select Travis to hit it, and executes a miraculous hook shot around the line and into the upper-right hand corner of the goal. Tie game!

I give Travis a high five and tell him I didn't think he was that good. He said nobody really knew about it, but he that he used to be an all-national soccer star. We are satisfied with the tie, but with fifteen seconds left we begin another barrage of shots on goal. They get deflected until our Japanese player turns and takes a wild shot at the goal. As the buzzer sounds the ball enters.  Looking at the replay, we see the clock just ticking down past two seconds when the ball crosses the plane.  We won!

Back in the locker room, I change into a beige sweater vest and head towards my class. It is then a realize that I had completely forgotten to attend my Sunday class or my Monday courses. I tell myself that this happens in my dreams all the time, and I can't believe I fucked it up for real this time. And then, of course, I woke up to great relief.