Last night I dreamed about a play production at school. I was apparently a stage hand, and I reported for the first night's performance. Though I was supposedly a part of the production, I didn't recall having attended any of the performances. At first my viewpoint was watching the show, and Hannah E. was performing as a waitress, wearing a pink dress. Then I switched places with her, and suddenly she became the one ordering.
She gave me a complex order: one glass pink lemonade, one mixed pink and yellow, and so forth. I went backstage to get the props to fill the order. I kept jumbling it. Dropping cups. Mismatching cups. Cups of different colors. Eventually I grabbed a sushi tray filled with Asian soup spoons that were propped up with built in heels. They looked like they could be worn, and I encouraged my table members to drink from them. This is my shameful part of my dream, for at this point I was speaking in a stereotypical Asian accented English. I felt so racist and cruel for doing this in my dream, but apparently I was supposed to for that character in the play.
The play progressed. The next scene I was in, I was seated at a table with a male character. He was professing his love for me. He was going to leave his girlfriend to be with me. This whole dream, I recall not knowing my lines or even the plot line of the play. I had a paperback book opened in front of me, which was the same plot line. I poured over it in hopes to find what I was supposed to say. I improved things left and right.
Throughout the scene, the curtain would open and close when it should remain open. I recall such incredible guilt, feeling both that I had traumatized this (fictional) couple's relationship as well as botched the play.
The entire performance was horrendous. Afterwards I spoke with the director, pleading, "If I knew I was a character in the play, I would have memorized my lines!"
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