TALLAHASSEE, Fla. -- So, I don't usually talk about things that are very personal here, but I've got to make an exception this time, just in the interest of prosperity.
Dreams are funny: The best ones, the ones from which you never want to wake, those memories disappear as soon as you open your eyes. Or shortly thereafter. But I had one the other night that still haunts me a bit; especially the detail with which I can recall everything days later.
I was living at home, but many of my friends lived nearby... As if I was still in high school, only we were all our current ages. And the district attorney held a press conference (Kwame-style) to announce my arrest. It seems I was caught as one of a trio for plotting to -- and perhaps more than that -- rob a bank.
The press conference was at night, but I couldn't -- for some reason -- turn myself in until the next afternoon. So, I broke the news to my mom when she got home and then started really thinking about what life would be like spending the next few decades behind bars.
And that was weird, too, because there was no doubt in my mind that's what was going to happen. There was no escaping it, no hope of being found not guilty. Because I was guilty of whatever they'd accused me of, simple as that.
But the bulk of the dream was the next day, when I would ultimately turn myself in. My friend Chris agreed to hang out with me on my last day as a free man, and we spent it walking around the little town I'm from.
People stared, and gawked, and whispered, wondering what a scumbag like me was still doing walking among the free. And the last real memory of the dream was this:
I had to read the newspaper story about my pending arrest, but all the papers in our town were sold out, this was such a huge scandal. So, Chris and I went to the library to look at that day's paper on microfiche (!). And, as he looked over my shoulder, the last thing I remember was being disappointed it was an AP report.
So. I'm sure that says many things about the many ways in which I'm an effed up human being. But mostly, what was so terrifying, was how real this dream was. When I finally awoke from it in the wee hours in my Tallahassee hotel room, I actually said aloud, "Oh, thank God!" Probably the most real dream I've ever had. Why can't the good ones feel that legit?
As a former AP reporter, I totally resent that dream. Resent it even as I laugh my ass off ....
Posted by: Laura in Austin | April 04, 2008 at 08:13 AM