The underlying premise seems to have become a recurring dream. I was in a large, oddly designed dormitory room. I knew my roommate was my college roommate. Our beds and desks were arranged a certain way.
I must have gone out for a while. When I returned, the room not only looked different, but it “felt” different, too. Our beds and desks were no longer where they had been, and there were more beds and desks. It seemed the university (like my growing company) had a space problem, and decided to move people into our room. I didn’t think much about it at first, but then when I realised I had no idea who the new people were, I became increasingly upset. I determined to contact the president of the university (I think) to complain because whomever was in charge of housing hadn’t bothered to let us know that this was the plan. I just didn’t like not knowing.
I also felt a sharp pain in my foot. It grew sharper and sharper. Nothing I thought or did would make the pain go away. It seemed an acute pain for a dream. I woke up — to find Hodge’s teeth firmly chomping on my toe. That was no dream.