The following is the recounting of a nightmare that was going on when I woke up this morning. I’m still a little shaky from it and definitely got up on the wrong side of the bed.
The nightmare started as I was in the car looking for my grandson’s house and got lost. I got out of the car for some reason; I think to check a map or my phone. I forgot to put the car in park. Because of the way the wheel was turned the car rolled around the corner.
Then it started rolling downhill gaining momentum and was also in the wrong lane facing oncoming traffic. Cars were honking and dodging the oncoming car. I began racing down the hill trying to catch the car, frantic and terrified, and wondering how I was going to explain this to Mr. Husband. I thought “oh man, I’m NEVER gonna live this down.”
Somehow it rolled into the airport and came to a stop on a flat area right outside a terminal. I finally caught up to it. There were police and other scary looking unidentifiable official types surrounding the car and digging through it, searching under the seat, in the trunk, looking under the car, inside the engine, etc.
3 FBI types approached and escorted me inside to an office to question me. I explained what happened, fully expecting them to say something like “Wow, that was really fracking stupid” and that would be the end of it.
As we were talking, people wearing rubber gloves began to enter the room putting down stacks of papers and personal items from my car. The agents started looking through the papers. I had a variety of junk including pictures, mementos, some term papers about controversial topics I had written as college assignments; gun control, abortion, environmental issues, etc. I also had a stun gun for personal protection in the car. Why I had all this junk in my car, I don’t know – this is a dream, after all.
They started asking me about the papers and why I had the stun gun. Did I have a bone to pick with society? “Uh, no.” Was I intending to commit some act of violence because of these views? That would be a negatory. It occurred to me that they intended to make a case that I was a potentially violent nutcase with nefarious intentions.
Then someone came in and said “the kid is OK.” I asked “what kid?” One agent said “the kid that ran into your car.” The other agent corrected her and said “the child that was hit by your car.” I asked that they clarify which it was and they hemmed and hawed and wouldn’t give me a straight answer. That was really scary and the hair on my head began to stand up.
The car I was driving was a Cadillac, comically huge because this is a dream, so my mind immediately went to a scenario where some unsupervised kid bumped into the car and the parent, noticing that the car was an expensive one, thought “Ah Ha! Lawsuit! I bet I could get some good money out of this.” I briefly wondered how much liability insurance we had on our car and life in general.
I noticed that they were beginning to place my possessions in evidence bags and asked “why are you doing this.” They replied “this is evidence, Mam.” I asked “evidence of what?” They replied “that’s for the courts to decide.” Feeling a cold chill I asked “What do you mean the courts? What am I being accused of?” “Reckless endangerment, and hit and run, also sending an unmanned vehicle into an airport is a matter for Homeland Security.” I protested, “But I didn’t ‘send it,’ it rolled here.” They looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but said nothing.
The confiscation of my possessions made me feel extremely violated. Also it became apparent that they intended to turn my simple and stupid mistake into a criminal undertaking.
At this point I panicked and asked to call my husband. When I tried to tell him what was going on I became hysterically, sobbing and was unable to speak coherently. They took the phone out of my hand, hung it up and put handcuffs on me.
This is when I woke up.
I think this dream was triggered by my growing fear of how much freedom we are giving up in our personal lives for the sake of “security.” In many places in our country the police no longer need a warrant or consent to search vehicles. I think the belief that if “you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear” is misguided and leading us into a false sense of “it couldn’t happen to me.” We as a society are seeing a snowballing invasion of our privacy. This leads to government officials looking for that “big case” to further their careers and leads to criminalizing human error.
I am extremely grateful that was only a nightmare. But, I’m also terrified that this going to become a possible reality for American citizens.
One thing about this crazy adventure I thought of that mad me laugh was a scenario described by the stand up comedian, Ron White. He was in a bar in New York drinking, of course, what else do you do in a bar? He pissed off someone and got thrown out onto the street. He said that they did not just escort him out, instead 6 bouncers picked him up and threw him out the door like Frisbee, breaking a chair in the process. The police arrived and accused him of destruction of property and being drunk …in…public. His response was “No, I was drunk in a bar, which is perfectly legal. The trouble started when they threw me into public!”
I’ve been busy lately going through a spring cleaning of my office. This includes my armoire, which I refer to as the abyss. I found junk in there that I’ve been hanging on to for decades. The final papers from the sale of my condo when moving in with Mr. Husband 10 years ago, pictures that I forgot I even had.
1 thing I found which intrigued me was a self-portrait drawn 20 years ago when I was suffering from untreated clinical depression. It made me happy to know that I don’t have to suffer with that much now. Except for the times I stop taking antidepressant thinking “I am all better now, I don’t need no stinking meds!” Then I have to re-accept that, oh yeah, I do have a mental disorder.
Another was a quote from a book on writing that I read about 2 years ago. The quote was from the book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Ann Lamont. There are many pearls of wisdom in there for aspiring writers. She recounted her first and favorite rejection letter. The editor returned her manuscript with a note in the margins; “You have made the mistake of thinking that everything that happens to you is interesting.”
Well excuse me, but everything that happens to me is interesting…to me anyway. Where I trip up is finding myself reluctant to post something because I don’t want to bore anyone with trivial ramblings. But I have to keep in mind that it is my blog and I write what is going on in my head on a particular day. No one is holding a gun to the head of anyone who reads it.
Another quote I love is; “What people think of me is none of my business.” How true this is. I’ve wasted many an hour of my life worrying what others think of me. Yeesh, it really does not matter except in some weird scenario where you find yourself under suspicion of murder and are being tried and convicted in the court of public opinion.
I found myself pondering this and realized that the real struggle of acceptance vs. rejection is in what I think of myself. How many times have I rejected my dreams or nightmares? The true key to happiness is to accept myself, not try to force others to accept me. Lamont absolutely nailed it. What other people think of me really is none of my business!
I want to make one thing clear. I’m making this post because Mr. Husband ordered me to do so. I also need to inform Webster’s dictionary that half has been redefined to mean one-quarter of a cup. All is fair in love, war and now coffee.
He poured the remainder of the pot of coffee and I said “hey, I just wanted a warm up on mine.” He offered to share and so I poured some in my cup. In my defense my coffee cup was already half full, but when he compared our cups it looked like I hogged all the coffee. He burst out laughing and I retreated to the patio with my purloined coffee. He made another pot so it’s not like that was the last coffee on earth…sheesh!
To make it up to him, I purchased some raspberries for him to use in his protein shakes while I was on a beer run. We’re under the gun for tornadoes today, and I’m pretty sure that it’s against the law to not have beer in the house when a storm is a’coming. The only thing more important than beer is a good place to take cover.
I’m not entirely confident that cowering in a shower stall with a pillow over my head will help if we get hit by the type of twisters that took out Moore, Oklahoma yesterday, but all one can do is hope for the best. The part of Dallas we live in rarely gets tornadoes. They are usually to the south of us.
I do wish we had a storm cellar to retreat to in times of need, but I probably can not get any one over to install one by this afternoon. Oh well, you pays yer money and you takes yer chances. Life is like that.
My cat is trying to tell me something. Just wish I could figure out what the heck he’s trying to say. I know he thinks he’s had the last word, but this is getting ridiculous.
This morning I wandered into the kitchen in my typical just woken up peaceful state of mind and proceeded to start the coffee-making process. I had a few technical difficulties so I was in the kitchen longer than usual. I put the ground coffee in the place where the filter goes without putting the filter in first. Woopsie.
As I was putting things to rights to get the coffee going I noticed a weird stench. I sniffed the dish rag, nope. The garbage disposal passed the sniff test also. I checked under the sink, nothing going under there.
Then I noticed some sort of bizarre ectoplasm on the stove top. It looked like a pot had boiled over, but there were 2 things wrong with that theory. It was around the back right burner which neither I or Hubman ever use for some reason. Also the house keeper cleaned the living daylights out of the stove on Thursday. (She even puts the burner racks in the dishwasher, so I have to reassemble the stove the next day.) Furthermore we were out to dinner on Friday so no cooking happened.
Then I sniffed it and viola the source of the stench was revealed. I leaned in to check out the stove hood to see if something was dripping from up there. I half expected to see some alien pod attached to it. What can I say, I watch a lot of sci-fi?
Finally I daubed a paper towel in the substance and to get an up close olfactory diagnosis. The mystery became obvious. Our G* D@#m cat PEED ON THE STOVE!!!!!????!!!! I’ve heard of cats weeing in your luggage when you are packing for a trip, or on the bath mat, or even on the bed if they are really ticked off about something. But the stove, what the hell is up with that? How do I figure this one out? Does he want us to cook for him? Or was he mad because we went out to dinner? Bleh, who knows?
At first I wondered if the storms upset him, but the tornadoes happened on Wednesday night. The urinary infraction occurred sometime in the Friday night – early Saturday morning time frame.
Was this just mischief? Does he have a legitimate beef of some sort that he is trying to convey? I swear I briefly considered the possibility of finding him a new home. But, I love the little critter even though he is frequently a royal pain in rear.
I’m seriously stumped here. Maybe it’s time to hire a cat whisperer?
North Texas had an unusually mild spring this year so far. Mother Nature noticed the oversight and decided to make up for lost time last night.
6 of us went out to a fawncy restaurant to celebrate my Mother-in-law’s 80th birthday. During the meal I could see a reflection of trees whipping around in a mirror across the room. The trees were not just blowing in one direction; they were whipping around like they were in a washing machine. That is never a good sign.
I started to get antsy but kept telling myself that it was just because I was with the in-laws. I even ordered a second gin & tonic which is unusual for me when dining with them. A little after 8:00 pm we stood outside saying our goodbyes. The wind came up and we were all standing there with our hair peaking up on top of our head like we were in a wind tunnel.
For the ride home we watched an impressive light show to the south, all kinds of spectacular but unusual strikes. Some that branched out horizontally across the sky. Others hit the ground and the rays were so wide it looked fake. Someone was photo shopping Mother Nature.
At home I was in a semi undressed state and Mr. Husband was without apparel when he came running out of the bedroom yelling “the sirens are going off.” I was in a sort of stupor and asked “what sirens?” He answered “the tornado sirens,” for once not rolling his eyes and giving me that “Well duh” look he excels in. I don’t know how he always hears them and I don’t. Must have been that 20 years of working in bars with music loud enough to rattle the fillings out of your teeth.
Of course a sort controlled pandemonium ensued. Where are the pets? Are they inside? Mr. Husband put some clothes on. He tends to respond to panic by dressing. I don’t blame him. If a tornado hits I don’t want to end up getting fished out of the rubble in my birthday suit. I grabbed my 2 most valuable possessions – my purse and laptop and put them in a handy place in case I had to grab them and take shelter.
Fortunately for us, but not so fortunate for those in the path of the tornado, it touched down south of Dallas in the Granbury area. Storm spotters said the tornado became huge with a mile wide funnel on the ground at one point, a real wrath of God type scenario. Some people reported hail the size of grapefruits. A chunk of ice that big could come crashing right through your roof and land on your coffee table.
This morning the news is reporting 12 dead and hundreds injured. The response of people rushing to help those who have lost everything but the clothes on their back is heartwarming.
This kind of disaster always reminds me that life is short. Grab it where you can and don’t waste time sitting around bemoaning your lot in life because it could get a hell of a lot worse in the blink of an eye.