It’s dark outside as my eyes fly open and I realize I’m staring at my ceiling. I jump out of bed, my heart racing. I don’t know what time it is. I remember laying down, but it’s been an hour? Six?
I can’t tell.
A quick glance at the alarm clock’s direction tells me that I’m late for work. This is never a good sign, but what can I do? It’s too late to fix it. I quickly jump in the shower and wonder just how long I should stand under the water. I debate if I have time to shampoo and condition my hair, or if I should just use a 2-in-1 deal. I finally settle on the 2-in-1 as I glance at my wristwatch and notice I now have ten minutes to finish effectively and get out the door.
My stomach growls and threatens to immobilize me as I realize I haven’t eaten in over ten hours. This is normal, but I smell pizza. I wonder if I have time for even one slice and push the thought aside. I’m still in a towel and haven’t done my make up, let alone put my clothes on.
I release a sigh, realizing that there’s no way I’ll make it in time. Still, I fight the minutes as I throw a dress on, run a comb through my hair and apply a thin line of eyeliner and mascara before heading out the door. It’s my usual go-to look when I’m running late.
Fumbling for my keys, I lock the door and head towards the highway. Cars are everywhere, and it irritates me. I want nothing more than to run into the guy in front of me who has decided to drive ten miles under the speed limit. The clock on the dash tells me that I now have fifteen minutes to get to work, and I still have roughly twenty-five minutes to go. I shake my head and curse under my breath as I maneuver around the older man in the Chevy and speed through a yellow light.
I try to consider other methods of cutting time but know that I still have to change into my uniform and pass through security before I can clock in. I can feel the irritation and frustration rise as I take my exit. I’m hitting all the lights. I’m a block away when a car pulls into my lane and about runs into me. I pound on my horn, and she flips me off.
When I finally reach work, I’m ready to go home. It’s taken more effort than necessary to get here, and I wonder how easy it will be for me to excuse myself early. I pass security, and one of the guards notifies me that I’ll be alone because we had a call off. I nod, but inside, I cringe. What a day to be by myself when we’re expected to be busy. I run up the stairs and to the locker rooms, clock in and change before heading down to collect my bank. When I reach the shop, I see that it’s a mess and I already feel a headache.
I close my eyes for a moment.
An alarm clock signals me to wake up.
I rub my eyes and confusion clouds my judgment as I examine my room. I wonder how I’ve gotten here, check the clock and realize it was only a dream within a dream. I take a deep breath, smile, and get ready for my shift.
It’s another round of blog challenges (granted, I was behind quite a few). We were asked to compile the information from our last five dreams and pick three elements to write about. Now, I should preface this by saying that quite a bit of my work revolves around a portion of a dream that I’ve had somewhere in my existence. I have also started a novel, Email Your Dreams, which is primarily based on past experiences that I have had (with a couple of fictitious ones thrown in there as well).
I will say, however, I kind of cheated.
A lot of the dreams I’ve had over the past few days were similar, so I took those elements and created one short story instead of choosing the suggested three from our five dreams. I selected each of them since they all sort of work together and closely related with one another. A lot of this, I feel is stress-related to when I think I oversleep and you’ll notice that it involves my real life. I thought I’d put it in a perspective that maybe we all understand once in a while. If you want to pretend it’s a new character, feel free. We can call her Lucy.
Hope you enjoyed it. (:
Until Next Time,