untitled; 4:17AM

I had a dream last night.

To be honest, I don't remember much of it now because I tried not to remember it in the morning.  But I will never forget that feeling.

I woke up in a panic. I needed water, but I needed to see the time. I didn't see my dog sleeping where she normally sleeps around this time. It was still dark outside, but I heard my parents walking around the house getting ready for work. 

Weird.

I wasn't sure what to do. I looked for my hydro flask without realizing that I left it in the car last night.

Typical.

But to be fair, I had so many things I needed to take out of my car. Jeez, should I just have baskets in my car to organize things? Why do I even have so many things in my car? I should just live in it at this point. The other day, I found a sewing kit that my mom slipped inside when I ripped my dress at a wedding and I stitched it with leftover string I had (which by the way: how?).

Forget it. I just ran downstairs to go get a cup of water.

Next thing you know, I woke up.

What the... huh? Did I drink water? Did I check the time before I fell back asleep? Wait, did my parents see me rush down? They're usually so paranoid about me being up so late at night. Why are there three cups on my desk? C'mon Irene.

8:24 AM.

I closed my eyes for what felt like two seconds and looked at the time.

9:39 AM.

Crap, I'm going to be late for work.

Last night was indeed a weird reason to freak out.

A dream that wasn't as significant as it seemed in the moment was way too powerful.

That process of making unusual decisions fixed absolutely nothing.

I guess that's the power of panic.