Wandering through wide hallways and looking up at numbers over doors, Linda found suite 323, toward the rear of the building. A massive window overlooked the quadrangle in front of the library. The bright sun illuminating the reception desk and the couches there gave this part of the building more warmth than the other places she'd seen. Carrels with students hunched over the desks ringed the outer edges of the wall. Linda counted five of them that she could see and wondered if they were taking a test.
"May I help you?" the receptionist, in a flame psychedelic blouse with a chambray shirt smock asked. She had golden, wavy hair and a smooth, alabaster complexion that reminded Linda of a modern day Mona Lisa.
Linda approached her. "I've come here about that Oneironaut position. Is it still available?"
The receptionist smiled warmly and said "Yes. She reached toward a file tray on the corner of the desk, retrieving a stapled stack of mimeographed papers and handing them to her.
"We need you to fill out this questionnaire," she said. "After the program directors review your questionnaire, they'll call you to arrange an interview. To tell you more about the job and what we do here. Do you need a pen?"
"No thanks, I have my own." She had to walk all around the edges of the office to find an open carrel, counting a total of ten other students also filling out the paperwork. At her carrel, in the corner, she got out her pen and went to work filling out the first part, which was her name, address, student number, and telephone numbers. The stack of papers was quite thick. She hoped she would be able to finish it and still make it to Advanced Comp on time.
The first questions asked about her sleep habits. That made sense to her, since the job would take place in a lab where they studied dreams. Linda always tried to get eight hours of sleep no matter what, since her ninth grade health teacher and every article she'd ever read harped on the importance of plentiful sleep. Usually, she went to bed around ten thirty and woke up the following morning at six-thirty and her answers on the questionnaire reflected this.
A short statement described the type of sleep mask she would have to wear in the dream lab. It sounded like an ordinary sleep aid to her. The questions following asked if she was prone to claustrophobia or panic attacks. She checked off "no" on both accounts. Another section with questions about her general health followed and she simply marked "no" for every one, thanking God again that she'd been blessed with excellent health. When she was eight she had a tonsillectomy (her throat felt like sandpaper afterward and she got to eat all the pistachio ice cream she wanted).