I was at the Auburn house, and I was headed to church. My mom had given me permission to drive her car, which in the dream was still silver, but even sportier than in real life. I don't know why I was driving; when we lived there, we almost always walked, as it was so close.
Still, I got in the car, elaborately backing out and turning around, getting used again to the manual transmission and avoiding hitting anyone on the active street (which, on church mornings in Auburn, it never actually was: everyone was at church!). As I pulled up to the intersection, where I would turn left, an aqua VW beetle swerved past me on the left and hung a left turn without stopping. Jerk.
When I got to the church, there were orange traffic cones in the parking lot and I realized they were doing valet parking. As I got my keys together and got out of the car, I realized that I had put on a nice skirt, but was still wearing a rather sloppy tank top (which I wore under another shirt yesterday, and which I sometimes sleep in). Then I looked down and saw that I was also wearing my black down booties: apparently the only dressing I'd done was to put on the skirt.
As I pondered whether to walk home and change, or drive home, or try to just pull off this odd combination and pretend it was fashion-forward, the kid doing the valet parking had gotten into a cooler in the backseat. He was concerned that the ice would melt while I was inside. In particular, he was worried about a container of milk. I told him it was really old and that we didn't care about it.