1. (10/6) I am finishing up a solo dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant. I hand my credit card and the bill to my waiter and lean back in my seat, relaxing after my delicious meal. He returns in a moment, informing me that my card does not function. When I look at the front of the card, I can see that the numbers are worn down and blurry to the point of being illegible. Furthermore, the magnetic strip on the back is all scratched up. I am horribly embarrassed, as I've no way to pay for my dinner at this point. I am lowered to the point of dine-and-dash, and as soon as the waiter walks away, I scurry out the back door in shame.

2. (last night) My ecology lab is about to begin. These labs are almost always field trip hikes through southern Wisconsin forests, and I need a better way to take notes than writing against a tree or my thigh. I am looking for a clipboard; because I know I don't have one of my own, I'm rifling through Tiff's room. I come across a fancy notebook covered in textured black leather and, out of curiosity, I open it. The contents of the notebook are upsetting. Tiff has kept a log of my misdeeds since we started rooming together. She's cataloged everything I've done incorrectly in the past year by date. I am so depressed after reading this log, and I resolve to be a better person and roommate. I carefully replace the notebook in its not-so-hidden hiding place and abruptly stop my clipboard search.
(Note: Tiff, not being a crazy person, would never create such a notebook. However, this dream was so wildly self-critical that I would like to be a better human being as a result.)