Dream of a different Stipe

I had a two-part dream last night.

Michael Stipe approached me, asking if he could teach a section of our beginning writing class at BU. I said sure, and we began working out a teaching schedule.

Then I woke up, went to the biffy, and then when I returned to sleep the dream resumed. That doesn’t happen to me very often.

Michael and his people (two or three, far short of an entourage) and my colleague Sarah and I were never able to work out a schedule because of his other commitments, but he kept gripping the edge of the table, saying, “Dammit! I am determined to make this work!”

Then I woke up again. Michael, if you’re out there, we would love to have you teach for us.