Sunday, July 1, 2007
BMG called this one a "helplessness" dream when I gave him the thumbnail sketch when he FINALLY got out of bed this morning at 10:30.
I was in a city somewhere - obviously at work (there were some office characters there), when, in a Space Balls-esque move, a giant black atomic thumb-shaped fighter planes appeared in the sky. They began dropping precision bombs onto the high rise buildings, and the structure in which I was having a meeting was evacuated. As I was running down the stairs, I could see fleets of white planes descending, like locusts, upon the city. Terrified, I fled the building, leaving my purse and my cell phone behind.
I now find myself apparently trapped on an industrial-looking platform with a river on three sides and a 30+ foot high cliff on the fourth. I am surrounded by chain link fence and there is a metal platform above me. For some reason I am with my sister, E. The idea, I think, was to hide here until the confrontation is over, thinking this remote and secluded spot was safe. I come to realize that this hiding place is actually the largest hydro power plant in the area. I quickly become fearful that, contrary to the notion that we are safe in this tucked away part of the world, we are actually in grave danger; because our dream enemies are likely to bomb power sources next. (I read the news, I know what the U.S. did in Iraq.) So, E and I start to scale the chain link fence on the cliff side of the enclosure, hoping at the top we can find certain ground. The platform and the top of the fence meet neatly, except in one spot. After considerable panic and attempts at problem-solving, E and I roll out and find ourselves in barren country, with the smouldering city on the horizon.
We begin to run to find some place where we can borrow a telephone. I know I need to call BMG, who is likely very worried about me. E and I come upon a YMCA and we go in an ask to use the phone. We're told we have to ask Shane, the program director. He is easy to find because he is a good looking Canadian with nice hair. While I'm trying to figure out what makes a Canadian look different from an American, I'm also panicked trying to remember BMG's phone number. (I won't be able to press "2" and get him on the line. I'll need to dial a real, 10-digit phone number.) So, we do find Shane and he does let us borrow a phone. As this happens, I remember BMG's phone number, and triumphantly dial, knowing I will be safe.
A helplessness dream about work, with comfort and confidence with family and safety with BMG. A good dream. And, BMG and I agree that "Atomic Thumb" would be a great name for a band.