I dreamt that I was back at MIT. I came out of retirement and was to start teaching again. The Institute was rather different, though. The buildings became a maze reminiscent of an enormous daycare center. Wherever one looked, there were crooked corridors and strange staircases. Every room was painted in many garish colors. Both teachers and students struck me as weirdoes bent on a special trick or two. Like clowns, they were dressed in all kinds of colorful outfits. The results of their research were sometimes spectacular, but they rarely cohered. There were no departments or schools. Everyone was pushing his or her thing. I remember walking through a classroom when a young woman waved at me with a big smile. It was a welcome of sorts. She seemed to be in the middle of teaching a large group of students. I did not recognize her, but she appeared to know who I was. “How was Zagreb?” she asked with a happy grin. “Oh,” I was surprised by her question, “it was great!” I also remember having hard time finding a bathroom. I could not tell which bathrooms were for men and which for women. I entered a few only to find women there. They were not alarmed, but I hastily retreated each and every time. When I woke up, I could not believe yet another dream about my return to MIT. The Institute still beckons after so many years. The return comes back to me every few years now. As my dreams testify, MIT is my alma mater for true. It took me a while to doze off again.