I have to take a class to get into heaven?

Has anyone ever told you its impossible to die in one of your own dreams?  I don't know why but time and time again I have heard people argue this.  It doesn't seem like that big a deal, but people don't just agree with this idea, they will passionately defend it.  

The typical argument goes that, if you die in your dream you die in real life, that no matter what the scenario is in your dream, you will always wake up an instant before you hit the ground, or that bullet hits your face, or that dinosaur bites your head off.

They always have a reference to back it up too, "I learned in class," or "I read a study," or "I heard it on the news."   Well I'd like to point out how literally impossible it would be to determine if someone who died in their dream died in real life.  If someone dies in their sleep, how on earth can you know what they were dreaming about?

So maybe you would argue that nobody who wakes up claims they have died in their dream, but that's where I'm going to have to step into the picture because I have successfully survived a dreamt death.

The dream started with a doctor talking to me about a terminal illness I had, and told me I had until 6 p.m. the next day to live, 24 hours. 

How I spent my last day is foggy, I can't recall anything specific but I know I was at my house in Roanoke and my family and friends were there.

When 6 p.m. rolled around I was still alive, but thought about how odd it would be for the doctor to have such a specific down to the second death clock on me.  I managed to hold on for another hour, at 7 p.m. I died.

(I remember when I woke up the next day I was proud of my dream self for fighting to hold on for another hour)

I was alone when it happened, in my room, on my computer, checking facebook (my last act, how embarrassing) and I noticed St. Peter had a facebook page, I clicked on it, and instead of going to his page, he came out of the computer and informed me that I had just died and he would be bringing me up to heaven.

I had always imagined heaven to be an white ethereal cloudy place, but to my surprise we arrived at a house that looked like it was much to big for itself.  It was lopsided and funny looking, and seemed to leaning over in every direction.  Although the house was made of wood, the top floor looked like a half deflated hot air balloon that was about to be drooping over the bottom floors.

Inside was just as wayward looking.  The picture frames weren't square or any recognizable shape for that matter, patches of floor were stuck to the wall, and the stair cases seemed to go to any floor except the ones they were directly below.  And perhaps most bizarre was that everything seemed to be covered in large hardened bubbles. 

I couldn't have been prepared for what happened next though, I was told I would have to take an orientation class before I could settle in.

That was the end of the dream, and I don't know what to make of it.  Anyone I try to talk to about it just starts arguing its impossible to die in dreams.

... maybe that's the first thing they correct you on in orientation.