Last night’s dream took place at a school that pretty closely matched my (perhaps strange) ideals for what a university should be. Its campus was old, with august stone buildings and grounds with character that could only develop around centuries of intellectual pursuits. Most noticeable was the utter lack of modern facilities, which seemed fitting. I knew that it was an "art-y" school and that I was pursuing studies that kept with that theme. Sadly, the dream didn’t rest on pottery or writing or painting. Instead, I was rushing to an exam.
Leaving aside that I was late, the dream did have an interesting twist: I had actually prepared for the exam. I sat down, got the solitary essay question
It was all I could do to wake up, and even after I did, the feelings the dream inspired lingered.