So, this morning I awoke from a very long dream at like 10:40 am. The dream, sadly enough, was almost a nightmare, and it was about the first day of school. But, despite the dread and sadness of it all, there was some awesome. Just wait for it.
Like the first day of school often can make a person, I was extremely disoriented. The fact that the setting kept changing was no help either. This school was a mix of my charter school, my old church, and my current school. I left my homeroom and immediately rushed to the office because I didn't have a schedule. Of course there was a huge line at both entrances and it seemed the people inside were quite scrambled. But one lady, seeing my obvious about-to-crap-my-pants-fright, called me over and printed out my schedule for me. So then, I dashed up a flight of stairs and happened to bump into Mariah. I was harried so I quickly picked up my stuff, yelled for her to have a nice day, and ran off again. But, then, when I went to re-check my schedule, I had hers, not mine. "Crap. I do not have Advanced Writing Strategies. I'm taking, like, a poetry class." I scrambled through my things and managed to find my schedule too, but before I had a real chance to look at it, a teacher whisked me off to a huge auditorium. Somehow this made more sense to me than finding my classes and I got up on this huge stage. There were a couple other people up there in odd costumes and I just helped them out and talked and stuff. I'm still not sure what I was doing. People took pictures of us and I put on some ridiculous boots. There were cardboard cut outs. After we finished whatever we were doing up there, people clapped and I hopped off stage. In the front row, all classy looking, were people I used to go to school with. "Hey, Madison! Remember me? Oh, Thomas, hey." It was weird. Then, from there I was in a gym. But, I still didn't know where I was supposed to be. I walked up to one of the coaches, "Where is room 13a?" He looked at me, for a second or two before he informed me, "I'm a coach. I don't know. I play sports.**" Then, across the gym I spotted my last year's history teacher, Mrs.Andersen. So, I was like, "Awesome, she'll help me." I went up and asked her where 13a and she said, "I don't work here. I'm no longer a history teacher and I'm above giving directions to students. But, if I wasn't....I'd tell you to go that way." She sorta pointed over her shoulder. I gave her a confused thanks and sprinted off towards another buildings. I busted my way through a door, and there I saw it, between 13b and 13.456, 13a! I knocked anxiously. A little mail-flap clicked open and eyes peered at me. "You here for Poetry?" I nodded then walked in. The room was cramped and there were a couple people I knew. I never actually figured out if the teacher of poetry was a man or a woman. I think it was a man with an effeminate face. He walked to the back of the class and said, "I'd like for you all to write a poem about what horrid children you are for being all so noisy and late." Then he stepped out of the class. I started coming up with lines in my head before I stopped short and raced out of the classroom. "Mr.Henderson!" I guess that's what his name was. "Mr. Henderson, I'm not gonna write that poem." He gave me a dark look, "And why not?" I stared him down with a crazed look in my eyes, and I SAID, "Because this is a dream. I haven't even been to open house yet! And if I HAD, I would have had my schedule and known where my classes were. This isn't even real." Mr. Henderson looked at me, and then I woke up.
IT WAS SO INTENSE! I don't think I've ever so clearly defied a dream. I'm surprised I remembered it. It was excellent and awesome and I felt like such a winner, no, a champion. I dominated that dream. So, I'll interpret it later but right now I'm just feeling awesome.
**My subconscious is prejudiced against people involved in sports.