Somehow I've slipped into the Fred Meyers store in Raleigh Hills in my bathrobe. I came in through some back employee access area, but suddenly I go through a door and I'm in the regular store. People are looking at me funny, so I turn around and try to go back out through the employee area, but in the concrete back area, the doors are fire-alarmed. So I go back out through the store.

I can't find my car, and I meet a pretty girl who also can't find her car. I say we'll help each other, and ask her what kind of car - it's an SUV of some sort. I find her car, and I think that if I were her I'd offer to drive me around and find my car, but she just drives away. Maybe it's the bathrobe.

Later I'm in a line. I have joined the military, along with Natasha and another man, I think, one of my brothers, and this is our check-in or a pre-entrance test of some sort. When we get to the front of the line, we're given some papers and given a seat on an airplane which is apparently inoperable, but used as a seating place. The walls between rows go all the way to the ceiling.

Seems I drank too much the night before and I can't concentrate at all. I've been given about five handwritten pages to read, some sort of history, possibly involving my own relatives, and I can barely even figure out what I'm reading. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be tested on them or what, but I am completely incapable. There are some other colored pages mixed in with them that seem to be authenticating the handwritten documents, but I can't tell what they mean. The handwritten pages aren't numbered and I get them mixed up. Maybe it's an excuse not to have to do this.

Then Natasha comes from her seat and asks me about Diet Cokes. I didn't even realize, but she points out, that each of us has a tiny fridge in the wall in front of us with snacks, and a cupboard with some more stuff. Seems the only Diet Coke I have is in the cupboard and isn't cold.