I did not have a good night last night, and I woke up this morning feeling a bit off. When I say that I woke up, I am using that term a bit imprecisely, because one side of me would tell you that I was up all night. That, for whatever reason (none apparent), I just could not fall asleep. The other part of me, however, would disagree with that first side of me. It would tell me that I must have slept just fine. Otherwise, how could I have had a dream that (at least to that side of me) seemed to go on and on all night?

I know that most dreams disappear as soon as you wake, but I have never heard of remembering a dream that never occurred, so I have to give my second side some credence. On the other hand, if I slept all night, why do I feel that way I do? (A rhetorical question, please.)

What I remember is being in my car, stopped at a red light, somewhere near Dupont Circle. I looked out my window and saw a friend of mine (a youngish man, about 40 or so, which I think was my age) talking to a woman. I was near enough to hear what they were saying, although they did not see me. I was appalled by what I heard.

This friend (a real person – I could tell you who he was if I wanted to) was married to another friend of mine (I could tell you who she was, too, although in real life, they are not only not married, but I am sure they don’t know each other), and they seemed a happy couple, living with their young (3 or 4 year old) son in suburban Virginia. I did not know the woman my friend was speaking to that day, but my first assumption was that she was a lawyer, because they were talking about his plans to get a divorce.

Not only did the subject matter surprise me, but the content of their conversation was horrific. They were talking about how he was going to lie through the divorce process, how he was going to hide assets, what kind of promises he could make and then break without fear of enforcement, how she was going to have to deal with their son by herself. All sorts of things. And I could hear the conversation clearly.

The light turned green and I drove on. Strangely, I could still hear their conversation. It was coming through my car radio (which I had not turned on) loud and clear. I kept listening.

What should I do? I had a moral dilemma. Both of these people were good friends. Do I ignore what I heard? Or, more importantly, do I call up his wife and tell her what I heard? Warn her of what was coming her way so she could be prepared? But what if she was thinking the same way he was? What if neither of them were going to be honest during this process? What if the divorce had been in the works for some time? What would I be getting myself into? What would be the right choice? What would be the better choice?

I drove on and on. Soon, I did not know where I was. Somewhere in Montgomery County, I assumed. A major residential street with a green median strip down the middle. I realized I had better turn around – I was on a drive to nowhere, my mind muddled about my friends’ divorce. There was no place to turn left. I kept driving.

Eventually, I found a street to turn on. I am not sure why I didn’t make a u-turn and go back, but I didn’t. I took the left, and then another left assuming I was going parallel to the main road, but soon I realized I had no idea where I was or how to get back. (There was no GPS in this dream.) I kept going, turning now and then. I remember one street sign. The intersecting streets both started with an “H”. One was a real word – one just a bunch of letters that could not be pronounced. I was lost.

It was a neighborhood of middle class, and somewhat upper middle class, houses. Nothing else. I began to drive slowly up a hill, when I realize that I was having problems with my car. The accelerator did not accelerate the car. It went slower and slower, until it came to a stop. It would go no further.

A digression. In the dream, my reaction to this was “Boy, I have not had this problem with the car for a long time”. Of course, I have never had that problem with my car, have I? It was like, in the dream, I remembered having this problem at one time on a regular basis. In other words, in the dream, was I imagining other dreams that I never had? Or have I had many dreams where my car stopped working, none of which I remember, except that last night, I remembered…..in my dream?

Okay. I must have gotten out of the car, because I remember walking down a street with modest houses. I needed help, but I don’t remember how I went about getting it. I remember looking in windows of houses as I went by (I remember one woman, looking like she was in the 1950s, setting the dinner table).

I don’t remember how I got there, but suddenly I was in one of the houses. I must have let myself in looking for help, but I don’t know, but I hadn’t seen anyone in the house, I was very afraid of being discovered breaking in, and all I wanted to do was to get out. I started looking for a door. I went from room to room to room. This modest house seemed to have an unlimited supply of rooms, none of which had a door to the outside. Finally, I was in a room with a bright red door, leading out. I was very careful opening and closing it, because I didn’t want anyone to hear me. I got out.

I was relieved, walked down the driveway to the sidewalk, but realized I still needed help. A young woman was on the sidewalk; I assumed she lived nearby. She could see, I guess, that I was in some distress and asked me what was wrong. I told her I was lost and told her about my car and my experience presumably having broken into a house. She must have taken pity on me; she offered to help.

She asked where my car was. We looked for it, but I realized I had no idea where it was. And besides that, it couldn’t be driven. It was then I realized that I better call home and tell Edie I was delayed; I didn’t think I would give her all the details yet. I wanted to figure out what was going on first.

But then I realized I did not have my phone. I told my new friend (I never learned her name) that I didn’t have either my pocketbook or my phone. Of course, I don’t carry a pocketbook in real life, but I guess I did in this dream. I told her I never went anywhere without it. There seemed to be two choices. First, I left them in the car. Possible, but that would be very unusual. Second, I left them in the house that I had just escaped from. This seemed more likely, and the question then was how to retrieve them.

We were talking about that, when we turned a corner and found ourselves on a commercial street, a charming street, narrow and pedestrian, filled with shops and restaurants. She led me to the outdoor patio of a restaurant, and we sat at a table with another man, whom I assume she knew.

I grew impatient. I needed my purse and my phone. I wanted my car. I wanted to get home.

The woman who was helping me said that she agreed, but “first, we should have dinner.” I was not interested in dinner (we did not eat in the dream) and interrupted her by telling them the story of my divorcing friends, and asking what I should do. I do not think I got a response. I then asked if someone would come with me to the house I had broken into, because I was afraid to do it myself. They both said “yes”.

Before we could do anything, someone ran into the restaurant saying that my car had been found and was around the corner. I went and saw a car decorated as if for a parade of some sort. The decorations were extensive and brown. I ripped them off, and discovered that it was not my car. Nothing like my car.

The next (and last) thing I remember was seeing the woman who was speaking with my friend about his divorce. She was sitting on a chair on the sidewalk with a microphone in her hand, and I realized she was not a lawyer after all. She was a prophetess. And she, this time, was talking about ……. me!

The last thing I remember is me looking directly at her and mouthing (but not saying out loud): “You got me! You got me!”.

That was it.