The dreadful six months in Tijuana
The dream was almost entirely about a girl I know, who was at a party last night. I had a one-day affair, much like that first day when you and her realize you both like each other a lot. We kissed lots, all while playing hard-to-get, just for fun. Then she told me she was going to Tijuana for six months, for some sort of internship. I was devastated. I was sad. I was a dumbass who didn't think to ask if I could go along. Instead, I told her I'd maybe try to visit sometime. It was ok, though, because we knew we wanted each other when she got back.
I spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out how to get to Tijuana. I travelled by motorcycle to Germany, and the motorcycle was having difficulties driving straight. Instead, it would lose traction and spontaneously spin around, although it never fell over. Driving through a tunnel into Germany was odd, as we kept having to stop. Something to do with making sure everyone was driving on the right side of the road.
My sister was on some sort of job in Germany, although that seemed to have really been a job at Woolworth's. I went to see her, and was tailed in by her ex and his gang, who promptly tried to get me in trouble by making the store employees believe I was shoplifting. My sister was there, though, so they failed. I convinced my sister to buy food so we could make dinner.
So I finally made it to Tijuana, and found her working at some sort of convenience store, although it looked really high-class, because the whole thing was empty and had very subtle interior decor. I tried to convince her to spend some time with me, but I had taken too long to get there and she wasn't interested anymore.
If that's not a hint from my subconscious, I don't know what is.