Last night I had a dream that I was in my high-school German class. It was all the same people, plus a few people from other aspects of my life who had nothing to do with high school. We were all the same age we are now, and had been pulled from whatever we are doing with our lives to take this class. I was dressed for work because I had to go to work after class, and people kept asking me if I had a job interview because they didn't believe that I could actually have a job requiring office clothes at the tender age of 24.
I haven't used German in five years, so I was a bit rusty. However, I didn't think I deserved a poor mark in this class since I am, in fact, a translator (despite the fact that my translation work has nothing to do with German). So I successfully negotiated an agreement with my German teacher (who, in high school, was also my French teacher) that I can answer in French when I don't know the German answer, as long as I use an equal number of German words in French class. Everyone thought this was a good rule that should be implemented posthaste in all language classes everywhere.
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