Crazy Head

Did you ever have so much to do that you can't wrap your mind around which thing to do first, and it feels like you're spinning in mental circles? That's how I feel right now. So I'm blogging. Like that will help.

I had a weird dream last night. Actually, I have weird dreams every night. I haven't written fiction, really, since the end of November. And when I'm not writing fiction, my brain vents the creative backup in vivid, powerful, tiring dreams. I'm talking full-color, full-action, full-plot dreams.

I don't remember most of last night's, except for this one part. I was in Utah, and following some people as we drove somewhere. I was driving, I think, some kind of open Jeep-type vehicle. My Jeep matched the colors around us--the pinkish tans of the buttes in Utah. The sky matched, too, everything a swirl of color in the late afternoon sun.

I looked to the left, and there was a curve of UFOs banking through the vast sky next to us. I think about four or five of them. The undersides of the ships made me think of the undersides of horseshoe crabs. Then I looked back at the road, to see if the people in front of me had seen the ships, and the road was curving. I wasn't.

So yep, we sailed over the edge. Into vast, miles-up nothingness, in a heavy car. But my kids were in the car, I think, so of course we weren't going to crash. Also of course, it wasn't that easy. First I was heading toward a road on another butte, and was going to land on it, and I knew we'd survive. But then, defying all the laws of physics, our trajectory changed. That kept happening. I'd see someplace we might safely land without dying, and tried to steer toward it (as if turning a steering wheel in a heavy Jeep in midair is going to do anything). And then we'd shift again, like the updrafts were strong enough to lift us and whirl us in another direction. Then we were over a city. There was a park, but nope, we got moved. Eventually, as we came down, I slowed us by being outside the car, apparently holding it, and I stuck my foot out to "trip" over a row of white lily-like flowers, which brought us down and kept the wind from blowing us to a less safe spot. Then I set the car down on the sidewalk.

Boy, was I pleased with myself! It was a nice, light landing, no one was hurt. They also didn't seem to notice my feat, however, and the whole thing together is pretty easy to interpret, I think. I am in control of my life, however outside forces try to change my trajectory, and where I land may not be the original site, or the best site, but it will be good nonetheless. I will be triumphant.

And no one will care.

Oh, well.