To sleep, perchance to be freaked out
First of all, let me just say that I'm not the kind of person who normally remembers dreams. This is usually because my first conscious thoughts after losing my regular epic battle with the snooze button go as follows:-
1. Neeed cooofff-feeee nooooow.
2. £$%^! And *£$%! I'm late!
Yesterday however, I must've had what has so far been the freakiest dream my twisted subconscious has served up:-
It started of as one of those run-of-the-mill "Shit what am I doing back in boarding school Argh I have to resit SPM!" type dreams- you know, the ones you normally get when you're stressed which jerk you awake panicking that you've forgotten all your Add Maths formulas, then you realise that you don't have to do Add Maths anymore which leaves you with a huge feeling of relief throughout the day? Don't know what in bob's name I'm talking about? Tough.
Anyway, I'm in one of those old-fashioned Harry Potter type classrooms with the long benches and tables (which oddly enough looks like my current lecture rooms)and we're waiting for the teacher to come in. I have no idea what class it is but it doesn't seem to bother me (this has some basis in reality). Then the girl who's sitting next to me (no idea who) says "We're getting a new teacher today". I'm like, "whatever, yawn".
The doors to the classroom are at the back. We hear footsteps, and the teacher walks in.
It's Jack Nicholson.
As in the psycho in The Shining ("Heeere's Jack!"), the nutcase in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and the Devil in The Witches of Eastwick. That Jack.
Jack, looking like Jack circa As Good as it Gets saunters in Jack-style, with trademark Jack shades, with a Jack-sneer to the head of the class.
Jack Nicholson is my teacher.
No folks, this is not where Freaky comes in. This is merely Freaky's more sedate friend, Weird.
Freaky comes in when Jack-my-new-teacher barks,
"Alright you little heathens, open your Qurans!"
Jack Nicholson is my Ustaz.
You would think that this alone might have resulted in me waking up in a cold sweat wondering what the hell my mind was playing at, dreaming that the Devil (in Witches of Eastwick) was my Ustaz. But no, all I remember thinking is "Cool! When he marks our Fiqh books we'll all get free Jack Nicholson autographs!"
The mind is a funny lil thing, innit?
Then I discover that I simply cannot find the Surah Ustaz Jack wants us to read- I know I can read the Quran because I've khatam-ed, but I just cannot find the page we're at, especially since my Quran doesn't have an index of Surahs- it lists first verses instead. Plus the sunlight streaming from what I suddenly realise are French doors on one side of the classroom is blinding my eyes and I'm thinking, "ARGH! If I don't find Surah As-Sajdah Jack is going to give me one of his menacing grins and kill me!"
Then I black-out. And as I'm falling I hear Jack say, "Oh she's faking it, the little minx".
The End.
NB: This may have something to do with me reading Empire before going to sleep. Specifically, articles about (1) About Schmidt (2)The Shining (3) One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest.
I've heard that dreams are often just the playthings of Satan. If they are, then Satan must've had one helluva game yesterday.
nads went at 23:47