it’s raining and thundering. it’s thundering so loud that it’s making me jump and my heart pound. it makes the cats fly to my feet. i can hear the hail bouncing off the cars out front. i am scared. thunderstorms have scared me since i was a little girl. i keep hearing sirens. police, fire, ambulance– i am not sure. i’ve got the windows open. somehow i think if i can hear the storm, i’ll have a better chance should it turn severe. or if the rain stops suddenly. or if it gets quiet. then i’ll really be scared and probably start to cry.
this storm spooks me more than usual. maybe it’s the dreams i had last night. so many dreams– so much water. each dream started differently. one had me moving into the dorms back at college; another talking to brent at work, i was topless; another shopping with my mom and sisters. . .
about mid-dream each dream was the same. i was a passenger in a car. the car wasn’t always the same, once it was my old sugar (1979 chrysler newport). i was never driving the car, always sitting shotgun. we’d be driving along and suddenly the heavens would open up and we’d be deluged by rain. then the flooding would begin. massive flooding– houses, shopping centers, roads, bridges all swallowed by the water. but never the car i was in. three times, three seperate dreams we came to a rope bridge. a swingy, held together with ropes and wooden-planks bridge. we were to drive across this bridge. walking across this bridge would have been terrifying. we had to drive acrosst. i am not sure where the bridge came from. i am not sure where the bridge ended. it spanned a huge body of water. water that wasn’t suppose to be there. the water was from the floods. you could see the houses and roads shimmering just underneath the surface.
each time we stopped before the bridge and contemplated crossing. we really had no choice, cross the bridge and maybe survive. or stay and be taken away by the flood. everytime we opted to cross the bridge. everytime about halfway across i fell out of the car. then, as i hurtled towards the water, i’d start gliding. i was flying. coasting above the water. then i’d dive in. cleanly splitting the water. feeling it envelop me (‘cept one time it was oatmeal. i dove into oatmeal instead of water). i had no problems breathing under the water. i walked under the water until i found my way to a building. i’d open the door and walked into this giant maze of lockers. like a high school hallway. all sorts of crazy lockers. i’d start navigating these mazes of lockers and then the lockers would have signs on them, “no more choices, jodi.” “you used all your chances, jodi.” the signs pissed me off and i started running through the maze, tearing off those signs. i’d get to the end, open the door. . . and the dream would start all over again.
this is the most disturbing dream i’ve had in a long time. i am blaming it on too many corndogs.