I’m driving down the freeway in a car. I’m following Mel somewhere. Close to Mel is a car that looks like a Subaru WRX that’s been customized quite a bit. The top is orange and the body is army green. There’s another car that I’m keeping my eye on because the driver is driving erratically. I looks like an old beat up Acura. It’s been lowered a bit. It’s white. It looks like the kind of car you might find in Mexico. Mel is in the #1 lane and next to him in the #2 lane is the Subaru that I’m following. The Acura is behind me. Suddenly, the Acura comes up in the #3 lane beside the Subaru and crashes into it. The Subaru does a nose dive right in front of me and I see parts of it flying off. I swerve to dodge it by going into the #1 lane and just miss it. I keep driving, kind of freaked out, wondering what to do next. Should I pull over to the center divider or over to the emergency shoulder on the right. I decide to pull into the median because if I need to help the guy, I’m going to have easier access to him from there. I find a place to pull over and have to do a bit of maneuvering to avoid some tires and stuff in the center divider. Some guys are there anxious that I’m going to hit something at such a high speed but I have it under control. I get out of the car and start running back to the crash site while trying to text 911. I’m doing a terrible job of texting and can’t get the phone to cooperate with me. I arrive at a sort of station where I find the guy who was driving the Subaru. He’s in his early 20’s, caucasian, and has bleach blond hair. He’s holding his head. I tell him that I’m going to call 911. He tries to persuade me not to. I ask him if has lost consciousness, even for a moment. He says, “Yes.” I tell him that I’m definitely calling 911.

Emotions: It’s intense but I feel I did everything correctly.
Mel and I did move all of our furniture last night. He was also being rather crabby which was getting on my nerves.

I’m visiting a music store that I work in the chain of. At first I was wondering if I’d be accepted with the other employees. Its a pretty hip store and most people are younger than I. The longer I stay here, the more I realize that I fit in. In fact, these people know me and respect me. I make jokes with them. I’m standing at the counter talking about making some changes and noticing all of the news paraphernalia in the store. I’m trying to piece together how to introduce something. I start joking about a young customer who comes in and asks about some music. I’m pretending to be one of the girls behind the counter and say, “You don’t want that.” They say, “What about…” I say, “You don’t want that.” Then I say something about “Echo and the Shamen” or something like that.

Emotion: This speaks to my insecurities around being with people and having any authority, as if I’ve never earned any reason to be of authority because I don’t feel like I have the right answers.

I’m looking at old videos two guys that I know who would do lots of acrobatics in music videos. I think to myself that it seems cheesy to have done things like this but I’m noticing how coordinated they are. Even tho they’re just some street kids with no real attendance to what’s going on in the world, they’re really in sync with each other and doing some pretty cool moves. I think to myself that maybe I’ve been too critical of who they are.

Emotion: This speak to my critical nature of others which is a reflection of the critical nature of myself.