My Dream Journal

I am in my literacy class. In that class we all have nicknames made up by the teacher. My nickname is Poly sci. The teacher is talking to me about "poly sci" and "mono sci" and how poly means many and mono means one.
It is the same dream. A few of my classmates are opening late Christmas presents in large boxes. I don't feel jealous that much. We go to the school library, but it's the library that was in my Elementary school. One of my friends is there with a box full of cookies. I ask her if they taste good and she says that they do. I take one and eat it. It is blueberry flavored. My other friends take cookies too, and I wonder why they have chocolate cookies and I have blueberries.
We are back in the classroom again, sitting at tables with atlases. My dad then walks up to me, and I start yelling at him. I am extremely mad at him for some reason. Once I am finished yelling at him, I see my mom in the distance shaking her head, and my friend seated next to me, a surprised look on her face.
I am at my house, a different dream. The plot is that there's something going on with people getting fed a poisoned drink. I am in the basement, and a man is trying to talk to me. I start walking towards the stairs when he collapses, dead, against me. I ask my brother who the culprit is, and he tells me something about the maid from the book/movie "The Help". I walk upstairs and hear the doorbell ring. Seconds later I can hear the man outside the door talking, telling me that he is going to break into out house. I wonder if I should hide and tell dad. At the last second I race around into the garage and tell dad. (Although I wonder if I should talk to him because of how mad I was at him before.) Dad slowly walks to the front door where he tells me that he recognizes the man at the door as one of his friends.
My mom is telling me that my cousin is sick again. She seems angry at him because she is talking in an irritated voice. She tells me that my cousin is worried about his later careers (he's only eleven!) Apparently he is lactose intolerant and people don't hire lactose intolerant people. Then my Aunt buts in and says that he was worried about his careers because of "The Rummage." I know she is talking about the rummage we had last summer. She says that the rummage was "the king".
I thought it was kind of cool that I remembered my anger at my dad from a completely different dream. Hopefully it's a sign of being more observant