I woke up for the first time around seven because it was too warm and a mosquito was having a feast on my back and wrists. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and pondered on the idea of getting out of my bed and writing down my dream. My partner was also awake due to the same circumstances. I offered him a glass of water and thought that it is silly to have slept only four hours on a Sunday. Before I let myself go back to sleep I told me my dream so as not to forget it by the next time I would wake up.
I saw I was with P. and a friend of ours and we were driving. P. had had a few drinks and we were cautious of a potential police check. We saw a large truck making sighs to us to pull over but it was a police truck; they were the fire brigade. We pulled over in did, P. lowered his window and instantly said that he was terribly sorry but it was a best-friend's birthday and he wasn't really drunk but it might appear like it in an alcohol test. The people that had stopped us were very friendly and cool, they told him to chill, get of the car, eat a candy bar and then continue our way as if nothing ever happened. He went into a nearby supermarket to get his chocolate. I stayed in the car and chatted with the firemen. All of them proved to be from the same city I am from. All of them were sort of cute and one was very polite to me. We talked about this and that and our hometown. In the mean-time P returned and we continued driving. Next time we stopped we were near my mom's working-place. That's about us much I remember from this dream.
Later I saw I was in my final year of studies in the school of Fine Arts. I was about to go through my very last exam and then I would have to prepare only my final show to graduate. It was the very last semester of the required final year and I did not want to prolong my studies. Thus I felt very worried when I realized I did not have enough time to study. I got stressed about it for a minute and then decided I would give the exams on the next exam period. I new I would probably succeed to get a six or seven out of ten but I always aimed at getting very good marks and did not want to ruin that. I decided non-the-less to go see what the new professor would ask. I got into the examination room that looked more like a shop as it had a big display window on the street side. Most of the sits were taken and I found it hard to pick mine. We sat down there and were given two pocket size books I had never seen before. For a moment I though I might get really lucky and that she might ask us to make an analysis of the new text provided on the basis of past knowledge. I was sure I could pull through this as my knowledge of history of art is wide enough. We changed rooms and I had the same issue with the available sits. This room was separated from the previous one with another big display window. We were given two more books and she started making notes on the black board. I had left my other books on my previous desk and asked for permission to go and take them. The new professor was a smart, cool blondy with a sweet face and haircut. She was slightly taller than me and as thin, maybe with a little less booby. She told me to hurry back because the time went by fast. I returned and looked at the instructions on the board but could not really understand what I should do. I tried then to look into my books to see if I could figure the whole thing out. I had lost my page and by the time I found out what I had to do, I lifted my eye-site and the blackboard had been cleaned. I asked her to re-write the instructions but everyone seamed not to understand what I was talking about. I can't remember anything happening next, even though I have a vague image of a dark alley between brownstone buildings and a staircase. I must go back to work now.
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