Thursday, March 3, 2011

I can't find my car.

I pulled up to a parking garage guarded by the Secret Service. Tired from my day of driving alone from Florida to D.C., I tried to find a place to park my car. After I did, I set off to the city on foot. I'd have to find Laurel, my best friend, who'd also driven to D.C. that day, but from North Carolina. We had plans to attend the new president's inauguration.

I walked.

And I walked.

And I walked some more.

When I couldn't find where the inauguration would take place, I walked back to the parking garage and approached the Secret Servicemen and women to ask for directions.

"We'll take you there," a couple of them said. So we walked through D.C., which looked a lot like a cross between a college campus and camp ground. We stopped at a mulch-covered, rope-surrounded parking lot. Just beyond it sat a building with a light on in the window and a crowd of people outside, many of whom I knew from high school, college and grad school.

"That's where you need to be," one of the Secret Serviceman said. "But we recommend that you move your car from the garage to this parking lot."

I resisted.

"We really recommend it," he said. "It only costs $2."

Fine, I thought. I'll move my car. The Secret Servicemen and women wandered away so I walked back to the parking garage alone. I walked inside, where I found a series of tunnels I didn't remember seeing when I'd parked. The first tunnel branched off into two at a fork. Those tunnels branched into three each. At the end of each tunnel, I had to choose from so many tunnels through which I should walk next in an effort to find my car. But I didn't recognize any of them. After walking forever and never finding my car, I realized I'd probably missed the inauguration.

Then, I woke up.

- - - -

Had this dream last night. I woke up really exasperated over the whole ordeal until I realized that a) it was a dream and b) I am in no way required to attend presidential inaugurations.

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