I don't know why I tell these things. I'm sure one day after telling one of my dreams, I'm going to find the men in white coats at my door, ready to take me away.
Last night I dreamed I was chaperoning the prom. Only I also had a date to the prom, a teenager whose identity I can't figure out from the dream. Probably a good thing. Only I also had a Hubby in the dream, so this date must have just been a pretend thing.
A school bus (yes, a yellow one) took us all to eat at Applebee's. Service was terrible, and all I ordered was a beer. Apropos, but not necessarily realistic if I were chaperoning the prom. I tipped generously for my $3 beer (I always do), but my receipt read $14. I raised all kinds of holy you-know-what. And they would NOT change the amount. One of the waitresses justified it because one table of our students had ordered $35 worth of food and only tipped $3.50. I told her it might be true that they needed to be educated regarding proper tipping, but that didn't mean I had to pay $11 more for a beer.
And then I argued so long with them that when I got ready to leave, the bus had left me there. I was trying to remember who was on the bus whose cell phone number I had, and I finally remembered one student who graduated last year. I was crying by the time I got hold of him, and I distinctly remember saying, "Nothing has gone right this whole night." And then I proceeded to walk home.
I can't figure out why Hubby couldn't come get me. He might have been pissed about me having a date to the prom and all.