Morning. “We need to talk.” Aren’t those the most dreadful words you never wanna hear? Defenses go up, and, immediately, you start thinking the worst. But hold on; this isn’t about you. It’s about me.
I’ve been having this recurring car dream for about a month. You see I don’t know where I’m traveling, but I reckon this is what Jersey looks like in the 1950s. And it’s quite possible that I’m on an adventure.
However, whenever I approach my destination, about 10 miles out (I’m guessing), I run out of gas. It’s a shocker. I don’t even recall having a gas light.
In a panic, I walk to my grandparents houses. Sometimes it’s my great-gran or my grandfather, and they’re home. I could hear them. So I’m relieved. Next thing you know, I’m banging on the door like crazy, and they can’t hear me. They never open the door. I’m yelling out my name at the door, and I get no answer.
Then the dream abruptly ends. And I wake up thinking “what the f*ck?!”
I googled it as some us do when we’re looking to interpret our dreams. One site said: “you’re wearing yourself out.” I refuse to believe that. The other site says: “you want to move forward, but you’re not getting what you need in order to do so.”
But why am I set in the 1950s? I’m an 80s baby. So my wheels start spinning and I think:
Maybe my grandparents can’t hear me because they weren’t expecting me then; I wasn’t even conceived. I’m moreso a stranger to them.
And perhaps I’m running out gas, not getting to where I want to be, because the timing is wrong? Am I ahead of my time? Why can’t I just walk or run 10 miles? Next time, I will force myself to walk/run that 10 miles because I don’t recall feeling tired … If I run out a gas, fine. But I’m not discounting my journey by not making my destination.
Whatever it takes.