I woke this morning from a bizarre dream. It wasn’t scary, just… weird. And I woke up because my arms were tired. (They were over my head.) I was laughing in the dream, but let me start from where I remember it.

I was up at my parents’ house. Dad was alive. The house was full of people. For some reason, I decided there was something I needed to return to Mexico, which was a short two hour jaunt down the freeway. (My parents live much farther away than two hours from Mexico. )So, I jumped on my upside down glass baking dish and pulled onto the 405 freeway. Traffic was light, but what traffic there was were people running. My upside down glass baking dish was much faster than their running. (HAHAHA) I kept worrying that it was too slick and I was going to fall off, but I didn’t.

As I approached Mexico (the two hours went by really quick in the dream), two people stepped out onto the freeway in front of me and just stopped to talk. I shook my head. What were they thinking? I continue on. The border is within sight.

Before I could reach the border, this big kahuna of a man grabbed my arm to stop me. His name was Mauricio. I wasn’t afraid of him at all, even though I had no idea who he was.

Mauricio: “You can’t go there alone. It’s too dangerous. I’m going to take you home.”

How we got back home is fuzzy, but suddenly, I was in my parents’ kitchen, and it was a disaster. There were people everywhere, including Mauricio, who now looked kind of like Inigo Montoya. There was egg salad on the salad. I scooped it up in my hands with the intent of dumping into the sink. It was really runny, though. When my dad came in to their kitchen, I was a bit startled and decided the garbage would be a better place to put it. (Dad didn’t like us putting things down the sink.) My conscious mind says, “Hey, Dad’s dead. Cool he’s here in my dream.” I didn’t say that in the dream, of course. I just told him I was cleaning the kitchen and not to worry about it. To prevent, the egg from dropping on the floor, I raised my arms over my head.

I didn’t make it to the garbage can in time. The egg salad plopped onto my head and slid down my face. I started laughing so hard I fell on my butt on the floor. Everyone else was laughing, too. My arms, by the way, were still above my head when I fell down. They began to ache.

And I woke up.

Yes, I am chuckling. It’s one of those bizarre, hilarious dreams. I wonder what it means? Or maybe I ate something that didn’t agree with me. LOL

Do you ever have those?