Bad Plan Dream #2

It's fitting that I have another one of these as the semester ends. I'm starting to stay up late at night, stuck in thought about my projects, orals, summer, and final semester. The result of which, last night, was this:

My orals were happening. Paul and Gloria were there as my sponsors, but no Geraldine, T., or Brian which was terrifying because there was no fiction professor to help me talk about my novel, and no lit professor to help me talk about my paper. Also, I love Gloria she's the the nicest, but I've never taken a class with her and she has zero to do with my Plan.

My outside examiner was a scary woman with angular orange hair. She didn't tell me her name.

I suddenly became aware that the work we were looking at was everything I had managed to half-create Sr. 1 semester. Meaning, my first draft of my novel with 17 pages of my second draft and my not-finished critical paper. Orang-hair-woman asked me one question about the novel, and I thought I answered it pretty well.

That was it.  The orals were over, and I didn't leave, they just started talking about my grade. My outside examiner said..."I think...C."

"Really? C?" I said.

"Yes," she said, firmly. 

Paul gave me an A and Gloria did too, and then Gloria went to write my final grade on a piece of paper, and instead of writing one letter she wrote, "C, A, B, G, E, F" in bubble letters.

"This isn't how orals are supposed to go!!" I cried.

Paul agreed and told me we'd do them again, and immediately got on the phone and called Geraldine and then started calling new outside examiners. The scary orange-hair-C-woman left and I cowered in a corner.

The end.

I woke up shaking. I hate my subconscious.