Dream: I am on an airplane or a ship and everything begins to break apart. I am free-falling into the ocean. I have never traveled this fast, this smooth or this deep through water before. And, I have never used a sawed off, particle board podium as a life vest.
I emerge into the light of day, free-sledding down a mountain of snow with my sawed off podium covering my half-naked body. This would be fun if it wasn’t a nightmare. I want this dream to end.
Suddenly, I slide into Target, so glad that I did not lose my skirt when I crashed into the ocean and went sliding down a mountain. I hide my half-naked body with the podium and some lady helps me shop for a blouse. I can tell she thinks I’m crazy for carrying around a podium.
I tell her I need to call my mother and suspicious, she hands me her cell phone. I call my mom and I say mom, I crashed into the ocean and went sliding down a mountain and now I am standing in Target. I’m half-naked, Mom.
And, my mom says, just put the blouse on your Target credit card .
I decide to wake up because I think this dream is going to end badly. I don’t have a Target credit card and I don’t want to walk around with a podium for a shirt.
I wake up feeling proud that my bad dreams aren’t void of Gen X ironies. My nightmares are funny; original and familiar. I have been in that ocean and down that mountain before. The exhilarating moments on the journey to hell and back were completely unexpected. I held fast to my fears, but they succumbed to the amusement of sliding down a mountain.
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