Unicorn Girls, Washington DC, Snippets of a Dream Long Since Had

I was in my former fourth grade classroom, as my present age and self.  My teacher gave me a shirt that said something like

Unicorns.

I took all the good ones.

referring to the girls I have dated.  I don't know how, but I knew that's what it meant.


Not a very long one, but a little strange.

Notes:
I have feelings of nothing but hatred towards the school I went to when I was in fourth grade.  I also didn't care for the teacher too much.  She was an old woman at the time, probably deathly old now.

I also do not remember the three girls I've dated fondly, either.  One is a hopeless girl who blames others for all her shortcomings/when she does not get her way, one I dated for barely a week before she left me for her exboyfriend (ouch.), and the last one, I just recently dropped all communication with because I loved her so much it hurt to talk to her.  She behaved very immaturely about it, and actually managed to lessen my opinion of her by the childish way she chose to block me and try to make fun of me afterwards on a public page online.

I guess all three were good people in there own way.  Unicorns, if you will...

I looked in the mirror.  Wow, I'm prettier than normal.  My hair is fluffier, longer, darker.  My face is free of my current dwindling post-teen acne, and my eyelashes are long, with no glasses hiding my eyes.  I'm really pretty.


So I was in a house that was proportionately smaller than regular ones, with lower ceilings and such, as if meant for smaller people.  On the shelves in the bathroom is row upon row of tiny little vials of cologne and perfume.  I dab some on and head out.


I was heading for Washington DC on a class trip, but I was running very very late.  My father was rushing me; he was going to drive me there.  I finally get in the car, but as we drive along down the road, I realize that I left my MP3 player at home, and I'll be damned if I'm going on a trip without it.


In the midst of the adrenaline rush of I'm Going To Be Late and Please Stop Rushing Me, I found myself spiraling into a hopeless feeling.  I told him to stop the car through tears.  We had three minutes to get there one a drive that normally took fifteen and I just wanted to give up.


Notes:
Running behind / being late / missing the bus is a reoccurring theme of mine.  So is packing up things to move, in slow motion.  As in, clearing my desk to go to another class in slow motion.  In this case, it was getting ready in slow motion.  In reality, I am hardly ever late to anything, ever.  Number of days I've been late to work my entire life?  Two.  One due to weather, the other because my alarm didn't go off :X

I love Washington DC, btw.  Been there twice, both on class trips.  I guess that's where that probably came from.

Also, in my fiance's father's house is a bathroom with a lot of tiny cologne/perfume bottles on a shelf.

Snippets -
While dreaming, I remembered a flash of another dream I've had before.  Or did I?  Did the dream just make me believe I had dreamed it before, altering my memories themselves?
It was a restaurant in the deserts of Colorado, a tiny, tiny little hole in the wall in a strip of homely wooden shops.  There was a chill in the air, like Christmas wind.  Inside, the smell of breakfast.  This place was only big enough for a bar and five stools, and a couple tables at the end.  So, prop yourself up, the cider's almost done!


Notes:
Inside I feel like I have been to this place before in my dreams.  That I have been there with friends, or waiting for friends.  But have I really, or is it the dream... giving me false memories...  I remember this scene so vividly, but it does not exist, and I remember nothing else.

Immediately before bed - mac and cheese, spaghetti with (homemade) meatballs, cup of tea
(This is starting to make me realize I'm lucky to not be fat.  I always eat fattening food RIGHT before going to sleep!!)
Approx. sleep duration - 10 hours (9:45p - 8a)