The Time I Drove the Wrong Way after a Blizzard

Last night I dreamt that I was on a roadtrip, possibly with my family. It was winter—the sky was gray and cold and the world was brown. We had gone a very long time with clear weather, when we heard on the radio that a blizzard was coming like a hurricane. We stopped at a motel, which had brown blankets on the bed and windows on both sides of the room. We hurried to bring our bags inside before the snow started. My feet were bare, and I could hardly move fast enough. Finally we hunkered down in the room and watched the windows go white.


The next day the storm was gone, so this guy and I got in the car. The roads were clear. Everything was clear and snow-free. I was driving. At an intersection, I turned left. Suddenly I realized I had turned onto the left side of the median rather than the right. Cars sped around me going the opposite direction. I wanted to get over, but the median was in the way. Heart racing and brain panicking, I kept driving, hoping to find somewhere to turn off the road entirely. Finally a white police car appeared with lights blazing and siren screaming. Even though I knew I was in the wrong, I was more scared of getting a ticket, so I tried to turn around on the busy street in order to flee. The police approached me head-on, their bumpers drawing ever nearer to mine, and then I woke up.