I have been having more and more nightmares lately. Last night was a dozy. Don didn’t have to wake me up from this one but I still, at 11 a.m., feel like I’ve been run over by a semi.
I was so tired last night that I went to bed just after 9 p.m. That is very early for me. I couldn’t even read so I just turned in. I actually got in way more that my usual 4-5 hours but by 5:45 I was so into a nightmare that I was awake and trying to shake it off for 15-20 minutes. No luck.
Sometimes nightmares are really horrifying as much as they are crazed and mindless. Sometimes the devil is in the details, not scary but terrifying nonetheless.
Last night I was on a road trip with my friend, B. We headed north to Modesto. As I was driving, I flung a large, very thick soft cover dark green book out the driver’s window. It flew across the road and landed on the far side in a flat area. The book was my Catechism of the Catholic Church. Now THAT has got to be fraught with symbolism. A little further up the road I pulled off to the side. I carried an armload of books as I got out of the car and after looking around, dropped them into the ditch.
After I returned to the car, B and I continued north passed Hatch Rd. At some point, I drove off the road, ended up in a carnival-like courtyard in San Francisco and explored an art museum concentrating particularly on an American Indian artist. B, who loves art museums, stayed outside, not wanting to see anything of the exhibit.
From there, we took an escalator to another area to explore but by this time it was all becoming very vague. We left, found that we had lost my car, walked back up the rock and dirt road to the main road and discovered that we were in someone’s driveway. We were well and truly lost.
Quick scene change – We walked through a field and find ourselves on Crowslanding Rd. at Whitmore Ave. It is after dark and this is NOT the place you want to be after dark in Modesto. We sit at the side of a furniture store and several cantinas. YES! Cantinas. I call home for Quanah to pick us up. Q lives in Oregon but in my dream he must be visiting.
By this time, it is night; we are stranded in an undesirable area; my car is lost; my books are gone. My mind is going crazy. It’s 5:45 a.m. and I can’t stand it anymore. I get up to start my day. It’s pushing noon right now and I’m happy to say that I am finally feeling much more settled than I was six hours ago.
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