The Pope is giving mass at my elementary school. (This is the second night in a row I've dreamt about said elementary school -- hmm, it must mean something.) Even though I'm not a Catholic, I know I have to go see him, and so I run down to the school. (It's very close to my house.)
When I get there (the inside of the elementary school now looks suspiciously like the Protestant church I used to go to when I first moved here), the Pope and a bunch of kids are setting up chairs in one of the rooms. I say to one of them, "Why are you making the Pope set up chairs? That isn't very nice of you!"
The Pope comes over to me and says, "And why can't I set up chairs, Meredith?" I'm surprised that he knows my name and also that he doesn't look as old as I thought he would.
