hangover cure

step one: have an apocalyptic dream at 2:30 a.m. that panics you awake

step two: ooze into the kitchen still upset by dream and down three advil with a large jar of water

step three: crawl back into bed for another five hours, hoping the dream does not continue

a regular day, teaching a concept to first-year composition students. a young woman in the front row becomes combative; i ask to speak to her in the hall. we are in the hall and j.w., a professor at isu walks briskly into my classroom and begins writing on the board.

"what are you doing?'
"tell everyone to leave quietly."
"what's going on?"
"just tell everyone to leave."

she then half walks, half jogs out the door. i follow her to get more answers. she just says,
"good luck" and disappears. i sense something is wrong as i watch people start pouring out of the rooms, visibly frightened. i fight my way back to the classroom to get my stuff; it has become a large conference space full of crying, worried, terrified people.

"no signal," whispers someone i should know but cannot identify. i check my cell phone and it's the same "no service" message. i grab my things and attempt to leave, but am stopped by a friend.

"what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"i've got to find kellyn."

no resistance with that explanation.

and then a gap of time. i am wandering through the building that has been stripped of everything, no carpet, no paint, no nothing. people are sealed off into rooms along the side unable to leave; me unable to enter. a giant fan whirls out something foul into the air, and i am stuck on the outside. i have a backpack on my shoulders, a coat in my hand and i cannot find kellyn and i know i am going to die.

checking my phone again, i finally have service and send kellyn a message. "where are you?" within seconds, i received a reply. the screen says, "it's finally here. and it's not the fake one."

wandering the stark white halls, listening to constant low rumbling coming from outside, i search for an exit. as i pass one of the rooms, which intuitively i know to be the only safe places to be, i see j.w. again, playing inside with her son, giggling as her toddles toward her on unsteady one-year old legs. she does not see the woman frantically knocking on the glass, without her own child, feeling life being wrung from her body...

this is the second dream i've had about not being able to find kellyn. i panicked myself wide awake, and it didn't help that i could hear the trains down by the over-pass, rumbling away.