So I've always had these really oddball dreams about school or being back in school. In yesterday's edition, it was the very first of the school year, so I was receiving and unboxing my braille textbooks. I was eight years old or so. Some of the boxes contained complete and correct textbooks. At least one box was completely empty. Another contained a single volume, in Spanish. Realize that braille textbooks usually require many volumes. Like, a 20-plus volume mathematics textbook is by no means unheard of. The 1959 World Book Encyclopedia is some 144 volumes of braille. Big, thick, hard-backed volumes which could serve as effective bludgeons. So I've got this box with one volume of a multi-volume text, and I'm like, "At least it's in a language I can speak and understand." Though how eight-year-old me knew Spanish is beyond me; I did read and speak it in high school, though no earlier. It's a dream, for fuck's sake; I should stop trying to examine it so rationally.
By this point I'm really sad and disappointed. On the verge of crying and having an emotional meltdown, because I don't know how I'm going to survive this school year without proper textbooks.
A teacher takes me aside and says, "This is what happens when *they* fuck up your working government."