Dream a little dream of work.

Its not a new thing for me to dream about my job. The types of dreams this job is producing, though, oh man.

When I was a resident assistant I often dreamt about my staff and handling situations that could and did actually happen. I would dream about going on rounds when I fell asleep at the end of a duty night and of breaking up a fight after hearing about one in another building.

Never did I dream of being a secret revolutionary or possibly the only one who could save our country and my fellow employees from an apocalyptic future.

Last night I had a dream that I was trying to escape from the USA. It started with me rescuing animals and finding people to ferry them to safety. I vividly remember finding a cat with matted hair and scared eyes and begging one of my favorite bosses, Bryan, to please take this cat with him. I know that in real life B is an animal lover, so this makes sense, but to have him in my dream in the first place? Anyway, he saved the cat.

The entire dream was set in an underground parking garage. I know it was near an airport, my final state-side destination. I think I had arrived in a caravan. it, however, was quickly abandoned and while I waited nervously on someone to come and get me to transport me out of this facility I frantically looked though vehicle after abandoned vehicle for things I might need to take with me. They were mostly minivans or jeeps and they were all left open and were in states of serious disrepair, as though they has been there for decades while the world collapsed around them. in one van there were nothing but pillows, in another food. I took with me only packaged food, which I shoved into a paper bag as a van pulled up for me.

The driver was at first a stranger, but as the dream progressed she became someone I knew I could trust. I feel like she may have been a teacher of mine. Who, I'm still not sure. She drove me to a security checkpoint, still underground. I'm not sure if the government was in tact or if this was more of a martial law-type situation because I'm not sure why I was fleeing. Perhaps the government had gone corrupt and I had to escape to being help from our allies. Perhaps there was a zombie apocalypse and our infrastructure was crumbling. I'm not sure. What I am sure of was the sense of urgency and fear I felt. Our checkpoint consisted of pulling up to the side of another minivan with their side door open, guards sitting inside, waiting to see our luggage and papers. I handed over the paper sack I had collected when I noticed the guards outside the minivan. One of them was my friend from work, Cody. He winked at me and that's when I knew that I was the leader of some sort of resistance movement, but that the opposition had yet to figure out who we were. It was then very, very important that no one figure out who I was and that I get through this and be allowed to leave the country. They checked my sack of food and weren't going to let me go any farther because I didn't have any personal items in there. I quickly pulled my phone out of my back pocket and showed them that I was a genuine traveler. It was a very tense moment and when it passed I was given back my paper sack and for some reason I told the guard that I had money in there that was now missing. I was given $15 in small, crumpled bills once Cody backed me up.

We drove away from the checkpoint and I remember feeling incredibly relieved that they never checked my ID. I though clearly about my drivers' license and could even see the stupid purple color that's behind the state name and breathed a sigh of relief, because though my face was not recognizes, I knew that my name would have been and I didn't have time or foresight to change that on an ID. As we drove away my friend and "husband" Andy ran up to my window. I made the driver stop so I could talk to him. He looked like he was really sick or had been beaten or something. He called me wife, like we do at work, and told me that things were really bad here. I grasped his hands though the rolled down window and told him, "Andy, you're my husband and I love you. I wish I could take you with me, but I can't. Please know, though, that I will come back for you and I'll be bringing with me a military power like you've never seen. I'm going to fix this" We let go of each other and I was driven away, presumably to do just that, all the while thinking about how Andy is not really my husband, we're not even dating. Actually, we don't even interact outside of work. My ID does not bear his last name and I don't wear a ring, but I knew I would come back for him and for everyone else. I knew I was going to England.

And then I woke up, freaking out.

The content, while rather dark, is not something one might get worked up over in the light of day. Perhaps my lack of writing skill factors into this, but having lived this once and then relived it to write it, it seems less daunting in waking hours. The emotion I felt through however long it took me to dream this and the 15 or so minutes to calm myself down after was incredibly real. I haven't felt that kind of fear of the unknown, overwhelming concern for the welfare of others, and just need to escape in a time I can remember. I suppose I'll have to ponder this until another dream comes along and eclipses this one. I hope it isn't tonight.