The One With The Grand Canyon

So the Grand Canyon tried to kill me. I wish I were lying. I’ve never been there and I don’t know what I did to piss it off, but yeah. Total death wish.

Lately, I’ve been saying I’m overwhelmed. I feel like the world is closing in on me. I’m a living breathing walking open tomb come put your dead relatives inside me-type of thing. That’s how I feel. I have been sharing this feeling subconsciously with BFam. I didn’t mean to but it’s like an open wound, this feeling. Someone’s bound to get infected. Bad news is everywhere. People are getting sick from stress, passing out at their jobs, dropping dead of heart attacks. At 30. And you can’t run from it. There’s only so much Summer programming can do before I eventually have to return to the real world. So You Think You Can Dance is nice, but it ain’t cuttin’ it.

Apparently, I’m stressed to my core and when I say “core” I mean soul. Heart. Brain. Those things that make up my inner workings. Yeah, that stuff. And I’m trying to be all Peter Pan about it and think happy thoughts, but I don’t have anyone sprinkling pixie dust over me. Screwed? Maybe. Let’s go to sleep. Sleeping makes everything go away…

The dream goes like this:

BFam, me, Booger. Where’s Mooter? I don’t know but it was probably a good thing she was missing. Anyway, we’re driving. And we’re not fighting. Not arguing. Just talking. Booger’s asleep. We’re driving along. Pretty uneventful. It’s sunny. A/C is roaring through the vents. Nice Summer drive. Wait. What’s that? Is that the GRAND-FRICKIN-CANYON?! Tires screech. Car loses control. BFam grips the steering wheel as we dive, Thelma and Louise style, head first into the canyon. I am calm. Scary calm. BFam is silently crapping his pants. Not literally but his face would give every indication this is going on. His hands never leave the steering wheel. I think they may be hermetically sealed at this point. I turn to him. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He gives me this “DO YOU REALIZE WE’RE ABOUT TO DIE?!” look but says nothing. “Maybe we should wake the baby,” I say. I turn to unfasten her from her car seat. Just as I turn back to face forward, I see water. “Is that… water? Are we going to land in water?” We do, and it’s so soft a landing you would think we’d just landed in Lake Erie lined with clouds. “We’re going to be OK,” I say. Then the car starts to sink. “We’re going to have to break these windows to get out,” I say. I turn to BFam, Booger in hands. “You ready?”

WHAT. THE. FRICK.

I know it means something. I think I know what it means, but I’m never good at analyzing my own dreams. I have dreamed of falling before. Every time, I can feel the drop. Feel my stomach lurch with the tumble and hurl all the way down. I’ve never hurt myself or died upon landing because I always wake up before I reach my end. The strangest thing about the entire dream (because I can take my pick of things right about now) is that I never felt the fall. I braced myself for it. Prepared myself for this huge… thing. The car even rolled mid-air a few times. Nothing. Just me and calm in the midst of this ginormous, mountainous cavern. Why wasn’t I freaking out?! Why wasn’t I squeezing my eyes shut?! Why did we land in water?!

Miss Cleo? Psychic Friends? Anyone?

Cover Image: Terragen – The Grand Canyon by =CrAzYmOnKeY