2:42 A.M.

I had a dream last night that scared the literal hell out of me. The only reason I mention this is that in a recent group discussion I bragged of not having had a nightmare in over ten years. Like Jerry and his vomit, my streak is over. It went something like this:

I came home from church in between meetings (common for me in real life), only it wasn't my real home it was a duplex with a shared four-car garage in the middle. When I pulled in (driving my tan Ford truck from high school, a.k.a. "The Fo") there was a man parked in my driveway. If Christopher Llyod and Albert Einstein had a love child, this is what the man would look like. Let's call him Christopher Einstein.

So anyway, Christopher Einstein is hanging around my garage and asks me where the nearest church is. I walked him to the corner and pointed down the street. "It's not the church you see there, but if you keep walking it will be on your right," I told him. Annoyed I wouldn't give him a ride and glancing at his watch he dissappeared into my duplex's garage.

Meanwhile my neighbor (who was actually my old neighbor in real life-weird) steps out of the garage and warns me, "Don't get in his car. If you go together, be sure to take your car and you drive. That's much safer."

I got into the 'Fo' and, as every woman does, checked the back set. It was empty.

Heading off down the street I shifted gears (manual transmission)... first... seccond... third...

and then in the rear view mirror I see the fluzzy white hair rising from the back seat. I shouted, "You son of a bi..."

And then I sat straight up in bed and glanced at the clock. 2:42 am. My streak is over.

Psychology majors, interpret please.