I thought this was funny and meaningful

something in the room with the Richard Diebenkorn at lacma and star wars trying to get out of the garbage dispenser making clones of the characters. The party was over, it was time to do the heidegger final. I was talking to chuck's friend. It was outside in a classroom next to the entrance of a building. It was a skecth on lined paper. I wasn't really paying attention to it. I was talking to him about how much I liked his friend. I was going to turn it in thinking it was total genious. I saw chuck. His names were all confused and the only thing i could think to call him was roger. His friend told him what i said. I said something. Asked him for something. he smiled so charmingly and refused. he said he had to go to the copy center or printer or office to turn in his paper. I had painted over my simple drawing and thought it was awful. I realized i had to turn in my paper and it was late and there was a thick coat of yellow on the bottom coating the only part that really mattered. I was standing by where all of the pots and silverware are being stored in the living room and tried to figure out how i could have gotten a grade already if i hadn't turned in my paper and what effect this would have. I was on the verge of despair and self reproach with the simultaneous notion of self defense when I woke up and had to spend a second or so reasoning out where i was and that i had submitted a paper in writing. Something about 'roger' speaking about english.