Ladies and Gentlemen We are Floating in Space

I just had the strangest dream.

I was in New York. I flew there first-class and rented a nice car--BMW I think. For some reason I was completely broke, so I couldn't afford to take the subway. I ended up in Manhattan, driving down 42nd Street, looking for a way to Brooklyn.

My GPS wouldn't work, and I lost all of the contacts in my cell phone. I was freaking out, so I took the first exit which led me to this abandoned shipyard somewhere. I was crying frantically, and it was pouring down rain. I got out of the car and went into one of the buildings, but it was already occupied by some pretty shady people making and obviously shadier deal.

When I ran back to the car, I found the trunk popped open, my luggage littering the ground, and a 30-something housewife sitting in the drivers side seat, smoking what seemed to be a crack pipe. In the back seat was a man with a gun.

The lady was visibly shaken, and she had a bottle of pills between her legs. I asked her what they were, hoping they were some sort of benzodiazepine or opiate (anything to relieve the stress of the current situation). She said they were for her blood pressure, and I freaked out. I think I died in my dream, but I'm not sure, because that's when I woke up.

The strange thing is, I have this intense feeling that something like that has happened before. Maybe in a past life? I don't know. The last time I had a dream like that, the setting was Los Angeles and I was driving along PCH looking for West Hollywood. Now, of course, I could have easily navigated that route with my eyes closed. But ever since I moved to LA the last time, the dreams have stopped.

Maybe it's just a dream. Maybe I'm just putting together bits and pieces of memories I've made or movies I've seen or stories I've heard. Regardless, it's still a little disturbing, in more ways than one.