I don’t have nightmares very often. Once or twice I have woken up in tears, and those were bad. I can even remember them vividly. But usually the so-called “nightmares” I have don’t involve death, dismemberment, blood, guts, gore (Al Gore, yes, but that’s a subject for another post), or maiming.
I know…I’m doing it wrong.
No, what I classify as a “nightmare” usually leaves me feeling anxious and overwhelmed, like I’m drowning and can’t get to the surface. This time was no different. I had a bad dream where I was travelling with my family to another country, and was at the airport going through screening, and the TSA agent asks for our ID, which were our Social Security cards, and my son forgot his at home, so Hubby had to go to the Justice of the Peace (I don’t get that either), and get a facsimile for the agent, while the line got longer and longer, and when he returned, the agent used it for HIM, not for son, and I told her she made a mistake, and she yelled, “WE NEVER MAKE MISTAKES!!!”, and a guard came over and took me to a holding cell, and Hubby said he would take the kids on the vacation, and would pick me up afterwards, and the agents then proceeded to tell me why they don’t make mistakes, and all the time they were cutting Eldest’s birthday cake and eating it!!!!
I woke up anxious and scared, and the first thing to go through my mind was, “I better not have to go through TSA screening when I go pick up the cake.”
Which on the surface is ridiculous, but scaringly possible. About the TSA checking other places, not about them eating the cake.