Dreams
I napped for a few hours earlier, and it feels like I dreamed through most of it. They're mostly odd at the beginning, but the end terrified me into awakening.
The earliest bit I can remember is driving home down Bothell Way, and coming around that big curve, I saw a car in my lane going the wrong way and headed straight for me. After a lot of swerving, I got out of its way, but almost immediately had to swerve again to avoid the result of someone else's head-on collision.
A little further on, I found the source of the confusion. There was major construction going on and they had the road narrowed down to one or two lanes total (in reality, Bothell Way is four or five lines in this stretch; in the dream, it was like eight). But they hadn't adequately marked where the cars should go after passing through the bottleneck, so the cars coming out of it were driving in the wrong lanes. Hence the accident and near accident.
There didn't seem to be anywhere for cars going my direction to pass through, however, so I got out to talk to the construction workers, as did several other motorists. It gets strange here. For one thing, we couldn't get a straight answer of the construction guys, and it looked like the only passage was on the wrong side of the wrong, which would lead to hilarious road-crossing antics (and accidents) on the other side of the construction.
But the really odd part was that I met two women while I was stuck waiting behind this roadblock. The two were very distinct in both looks and personality. The first one I met was slender and quiet, and dressed casually. She had wavy or curly brown hair, slightly darker skin that hinted at Mediterranean ancestry, and a long nose, convex at the bridge. As I sat and waited, she sat next to me silently, running her fingers through my hair.
The other woman was a little rounder and curvier and was obviously dressed in work attire, something like a suit. She had long straight hair and round, happy cheeks. She was much more forward and kept clinging to my arm and calling me "cuddle bear" or something like it. She made the other woman very uncomfortable and apparently sad. At one point, the first woman took something from me to remember me by, or something like that. In response, I took my free arm and linked it with hers. Apparently, I'm presumptuous enough in me dreams to think that women who are interested in me will be okay with other women in my life.
Anyway, we eventually ended up on a bus, which was evidently the only way to get through the construction. Only the whole thing took me by surprise. I'd left my car unlocked, possibly open, and hadn't gotten everything I wanted to bring with me out of it. In fact, I wasn't even wearing shoes, socks, or a coat. I pointed this out and another of the bus riders held up his bare feet in solidarity.
I eventually got home, at which point I decided I absolutely needed to find my mom to tell her that my car was stuck on the other side of a massive construction project on Bothell Way. I had some trouble finding her, but eventually caught up to her in a parking lot. I was telling her about the story as we entered a building, apparently not on the ground floor. She bumped into a man on the stairs an the two exchanged some unpleasantries as I continuted to try to explain the situation.
But something was wrong. The stairs weren't working the way they were supposed to. I don't know how to explain it better than that. People--and there were a lot of people--started to panic. I remember distinctly looking at a woman at the top of the stairs and listening to her tell my mother something like "the world is turning over; the continent is tilting."
At that point, the crowd stopped panic and just stood there, still and silent. Everyone seemed to be taking in the fact that, at least for us, the world was ending. I looked around at the crowd, knowing that everyone was thinking about their families and their lives and their imminent deaths.
Then, the building suddenly lurched and the whole room slowly turned on its side. We could see the city spread out before us through the skylights. But even then, no one screamed. No one panicked. Someone said, "well, this is it then." And we all started to fall. As we did, people would occasionally speak, reassuring themselves and others that it would be over soon. The fall itself would be peaceful and then it would end suddenly. Everyone in that room, every single person, seemed to be quietly and calmly accepting death.
But as we fell, part of my brain screamed out at me that it didn't have to be this way. That we might not die. That we didn't have to accept death. I didn't speak. I didn't yell. But I frantically searched for possibilities, for a way to survive. And I found it. I forced myself to wake up.
The earliest bit I can remember is driving home down Bothell Way, and coming around that big curve, I saw a car in my lane going the wrong way and headed straight for me. After a lot of swerving, I got out of its way, but almost immediately had to swerve again to avoid the result of someone else's head-on collision.
A little further on, I found the source of the confusion. There was major construction going on and they had the road narrowed down to one or two lanes total (in reality, Bothell Way is four or five lines in this stretch; in the dream, it was like eight). But they hadn't adequately marked where the cars should go after passing through the bottleneck, so the cars coming out of it were driving in the wrong lanes. Hence the accident and near accident.
There didn't seem to be anywhere for cars going my direction to pass through, however, so I got out to talk to the construction workers, as did several other motorists. It gets strange here. For one thing, we couldn't get a straight answer of the construction guys, and it looked like the only passage was on the wrong side of the wrong, which would lead to hilarious road-crossing antics (and accidents) on the other side of the construction.
But the really odd part was that I met two women while I was stuck waiting behind this roadblock. The two were very distinct in both looks and personality. The first one I met was slender and quiet, and dressed casually. She had wavy or curly brown hair, slightly darker skin that hinted at Mediterranean ancestry, and a long nose, convex at the bridge. As I sat and waited, she sat next to me silently, running her fingers through my hair.
The other woman was a little rounder and curvier and was obviously dressed in work attire, something like a suit. She had long straight hair and round, happy cheeks. She was much more forward and kept clinging to my arm and calling me "cuddle bear" or something like it. She made the other woman very uncomfortable and apparently sad. At one point, the first woman took something from me to remember me by, or something like that. In response, I took my free arm and linked it with hers. Apparently, I'm presumptuous enough in me dreams to think that women who are interested in me will be okay with other women in my life.
Anyway, we eventually ended up on a bus, which was evidently the only way to get through the construction. Only the whole thing took me by surprise. I'd left my car unlocked, possibly open, and hadn't gotten everything I wanted to bring with me out of it. In fact, I wasn't even wearing shoes, socks, or a coat. I pointed this out and another of the bus riders held up his bare feet in solidarity.
I eventually got home, at which point I decided I absolutely needed to find my mom to tell her that my car was stuck on the other side of a massive construction project on Bothell Way. I had some trouble finding her, but eventually caught up to her in a parking lot. I was telling her about the story as we entered a building, apparently not on the ground floor. She bumped into a man on the stairs an the two exchanged some unpleasantries as I continuted to try to explain the situation.
But something was wrong. The stairs weren't working the way they were supposed to. I don't know how to explain it better than that. People--and there were a lot of people--started to panic. I remember distinctly looking at a woman at the top of the stairs and listening to her tell my mother something like "the world is turning over; the continent is tilting."
At that point, the crowd stopped panic and just stood there, still and silent. Everyone seemed to be taking in the fact that, at least for us, the world was ending. I looked around at the crowd, knowing that everyone was thinking about their families and their lives and their imminent deaths.
Then, the building suddenly lurched and the whole room slowly turned on its side. We could see the city spread out before us through the skylights. But even then, no one screamed. No one panicked. Someone said, "well, this is it then." And we all started to fall. As we did, people would occasionally speak, reassuring themselves and others that it would be over soon. The fall itself would be peaceful and then it would end suddenly. Everyone in that room, every single person, seemed to be quietly and calmly accepting death.
But as we fell, part of my brain screamed out at me that it didn't have to be this way. That we might not die. That we didn't have to accept death. I didn't speak. I didn't yell. But I frantically searched for possibilities, for a way to survive. And I found it. I forced myself to wake up.