Whenever I'm stressed, or some big change is coming along, I dream about tornadoes. It's very predictable. The night before taking my nursing boards... cyclones galore filled my head. Last night was no exception.
I was driving down a deserted road. Roads are always deserted in dreams. I can hear the warning sirens. I see two funnel clouds behind me, meandering destructively close. I see two more starting to form in front of me. There's no way to avoid them all. I pull over on the side of the road, thinking I'll lie flat in the ditch. Then I spy a farm house. There are some children playing in the front yard and their pregnant mother is hanging laundry in the wind. Can't they see the impending doom?
I run over to warn them about the tornadoes, telling them to get to a cellar. Because of course, farm houses never have basements, but they do have cellars. I find out these dream people can only speak Spanish. I know even less Spanish as my dream self than I do as my real self. But the tornadoes are coming closer and speak for themselves. We rush to a cellar. The two little kids, the pregnant woman and myself squeeze in. We close the doors and I magically have a flashlight in my hands. We all crouch on the floor around the light. We hear the wind, feel it rattling the cellar doors and the ground. Then it feels like we're flying. I peer through some loose boards and we're definitely up in the air. But none of us are scared anymore, because as long as we stay in the cellar we'll be safe. And then I wake up. The thing is, I can't figure out what I'm stressed about this time.