Tiny homeroom, assembly smokers, and first class

I was at a high school on the first day of classes. I had spent a little time in my homeroom, which looked like a bite-sized science classroom. There was just room for the teacher's desk and two large, black-painted tables around which maybe 10-12 total kids could sit. The classroom was a step up from the hallway, and there wasn't really a front door, or, for that matter, a fourth wall.

From homeroom, I went to an assembly, which for some reason I showed up pretty late to. The auditorium was all white. It was as wide as a movie theater, but from where I stepped in (on the left side of the middle level), the stadium-style seating stretched very far up and down. At the very bottom was a stage. I started making my way up a stairway towards the top/back row.

As I walked up the stairs, I passed two or three people who were standing on the steps. The girl in front was, just then, telling some anecdote or testimonial to the entire crowd, as part of the assembly. Her Biff-style boyfriend standing behind her was trying to light a cigarette, so I kind of pointed at him and went "Ah-ah..!" as I walked past. Other people nearby noticed too and told him to stop.

As I reached the top tier of seats, I noticed Caitie R sitting in an aisle seat to my right, smoking a cigarette. I lifted my hand up (turns out I'm wearing white velvet gloves) and tried to put it out with my knuckle. But I guess it didn't work (and Caitie didn't seem all that bothered).

I reached the very back row, which was practically empty, and sat next to Jeremy C. The assembly was just wrapping up, and he asked me if I was interested in getting a bite to eat. I said yes, but then I realized I had classes to get to during all four schedule slots that day.

THEN I realized that I didn't know what any of my classes were, or what rooms to go to. Plus I had already forgotten where my homeroom was. Jeremy walked with me as I went looking for my homeroom. Luckily, it was the second room I passed in the first hallway I checked.

My homeroom teacher was there. She looked like my algebra teacher, Mrs. Williams, but was a lot less sardonic. It turned out that she could bring up my entire schedule on her computer and print out a neatly formatted card on a blue sheet of paper. She handed it to me, and then we got into some conversation (I remember her saying something about "when she decided to get married"...), but as much as I wanted to hear what she had to say, I was trying to politely get moving so I wouldn't be late for my first class.

I looked on my schedule card and saw how the classrooms were listed. They had a classroom name, and then the "cross street" they were on (really, they weren't streets, they were hallways). My first class was called something along the lines of "EMOND" and the cross street was something like "Georgia Avenue". It was only a couple hallways up from my homeroom.

EMOND ended up being another hallway behind a doorway, perpendicular to the cross street. It was a tall, wide, L-shaped hallway, sort of an internal entranceway to the classroom itself, which was kind of a band/orchestra room. As I approached the bend of the L, Vanessa came walking the other way, wearing an outfit featuring a knee-length skirt and tights (not unusual), all a faded navy blue color. I was surprised to see her there (and uncertain why she was walking out), and I kind of pointed at her and went, "You!" But she seemed not to notice I was there; she was looking spacey and a little melancholy, and continued walking past me.

I rounded the corner, and without so much of a transition, I was at the orchestra room. A crowd of maybe 12 or 15 people, mostly girls, were standing, facing away from me, singing something informally as a chorus, but I don't recall what it was. I walked up to join in, then I woke up.

Please, no "sloppy disks"

I made my way to a university in Labor, Delaware (not a real place), which, on the map, was in the southwest corner of Delaware. I was going to be taking summer courses there — looked like it was going to be computer science. I had brought an old laptop of mine (ASUS brand).

I got into a classroom where maybe 30 students had gathered for orientation, with everyone sitting around on the floor with their backpacks and laptops. I realized my laptop had gone missing. Not only that, but everyone else had laptops lying around, all identical ASUS laptops, but much newer than mine. I asked around a little, but nobody had seen my laptop.

The teacher, a wiry middle-aged man with slightly graying hair, was giving some basic guidelines about the program. One thing I heard him talking about — while I was searching for my laptop — was that nobody should use, and I quote, "sloppy disks" in this program. He explained that he called them "sloppy disks" because, first of all, it wasn't just floppy disks, but things like SD cards, jump drives, etc.; and because he thought it would overcomplicate our computer programming if we had to deal with storage media that could change drive letters. (It seemed unrealistic to me that you would willfully avoid such a commonplace issue.)

Pizza runs at the schooly-mally place

Another dream involved several people trying to do pizza runs inside some huge school/mall-like building. The first time through, as everyone was getting towards the end of their runs, several things had gone wrong, and some people didn't have their goods to be delivered. I somehow went back to the beginning (i.e. back in time) and assisted various deliverers in getting their stuff. Two blonde girls in yellow fast-foodish uniforms were waiting outside a closed classroom door, but were afraid to knock and ask whether the teacher had the pizzas ready to be collected. So I barged in and asked the teacher, who was in the middle of a lesson. She said the pizzas weren't ready yet. Oops. Closed the door, gave the girls a shrug, went on to another classroom.

This classroom's teacher (reminded me of Nora England) was waiting on somebody to deliver the pizza to her classroom. Just after I inquired about it, a grungy-looking delivery guy came in with a box of sicilian-cut pizza. For some reason, he was writing down the teacher's name on a check while simultaneously slicing and dishing up pieces. Because his hands were busy, he could only write two little scratchy lines on the check where the name should be. The teacher remarked how the pizza was cut so neatly, it was the best she had ever seen. The delivery guy was using a knife and putting a huge amount of force down to make very straight, very deep cuts between the slices.