Bad Dreams 16 -- Morning of 1/7/19 (approx.)

In my dream, I am a student in a classroom.  I'm an adult, as are the other students.  I know I was an astronaut who has been to the Moon, but this information is not known by my fellow students.   

We're having an exam.  And I'm totally unprepared to take the test.  I look at the questions and realize that I may not be able to fill in any of the answers.  My fellow students are scribbling away madly.  Obviously they're well prepared for this exam.  Everyone but me.

Oddly/ironically, the test has to do with the Moon -- and it's clear from reading the questions that the questions are the wrong ones.  They clearly imply things about the Moon that are either irrelevant of just plain wrong.  (e.g., "What kind of cheese is the Moon made of?"  That's not one of the questions, but it shows how the question can be wrong to start with.  And so the answers are meaningless.)  

Having been prepared for my trip to the Moon and having executed the plan to go to the Moon and return safely, I know I could have written the test myself -- with questions that actually made sense, given the true nature of the Moon.  

I know that doing well on the test is extremely important (for reasons that don't appear in the dream) and I feel caught in a logical nightmare: I can't jolly well tell folks that their test questions are nonsense, and (for reasons that aren't clear to me) I can't divulge the fact that I've been there and back.  I don't think anyone would believe me in any case.

I decide that I have to put down something on paper.  I've got nothing to lose.  The answers (for me, in any case) are not to be written down in that ubiquitous little "blue book" you may recall, but are to be written down on a "ticket" -- a smallish piece of oblong paper that's already covered with numbers and letters.  I start to write out my first answer, and realize to my horror that I'm writing in the wrong direction as far as the ticket shape.  I can't erase the numbers and am now in pretty desperate need of a new ticket, but realize the chances of getting one are slim to none.

Some of my classmates see my predicament and try to help.  I know that if we move from our seats that we're in trouble -- both others trying to help and me, who needs the help.

The teacher stops by: "Is there a problem?"  Everyone is afraid to answer.

Bottom line: no one in the classroom knows what really happened going to the Moon, while on the Moon, returning from the Moon.  No one but me.  

I know I will fail this test utterly.