For the last week my question I ask myself before bed is “Who am I?” It may sound like a silly question but I am interested in what my subconscious pulls up.
Last night I had a dream that I was going to New York to meet with my editor. I’ve only been to New York once before, when I went to teach at Chautauqua, and I didn’t really see much of the New York I imagined (busy streets, brownstones, etc.)
In my dream I was on a bus with a bunch of people, not a normal bus but more like cable car sort of thing. The driver stopped. For some reason I got off. No suitcase. No purse. Nothing. Just me. I looked back at the driver who was standing on the steps of the bus, the only way to get on. He clutched his chest, his heart perhaps, in excruciating pain. Then he yelled something horribly scary. I don’t know what but it scared me too much to move. I didn’t move toward him and I didn’t run away.
Then he turned around, got back on the bus, and drove away. Without me.
I freaked out.
I ran into the nearest building. The only thing I could think of was to find my agent and to find my hotel. I was staying at a hotel that started with the letter C. That’s all I could remember about it. The building I walked into was a restaurant, a big old style diner with tons of open space, slow pace, and nothing I would have expected to see in New York. I explained the situation and the waitress brought me a phone book so I could look for the hotel. There were only 3 hotels that started with the letter C. That seemed insane for a place as big as New York. Then I looked at the cover of the phone book. It said Metairie, Louisiana. (Metairie is a town not far from where I lived in New Orleans.)
I ran to the next building. It was a room filled with people playing video games. Every room had a different game and different players. No one could see what my problem was. No one understood that there was anything wrong with being dumped in a strange place with only the clothes on my back.
I remembered I had my cell phone and I called my agent.
She didn’t know what I was talking about. She had no idea why I was in New York.
I went back to the restaurant, no longer sure if I was in New York or Lousiana. But it wasn’t a restaurant anymore. It was an office building and the manager came out to the reception area and said she would take me where I needed to go. We headed out to her car and I woke up.
This one I can’t figure out, at least not just yet.