Two nights

Sunday evening I had my first "end of the world" dream in quite some time--at least that I can remember.
In the dream I am standing facing a large cyclone fence, beyond it is desert. Someone comes upon me from behind and reminds me of the date: 9/11. In the dream, the calendars are turned back and it is actually 9/11/2001.
The voice goes on, telling me that the world is about to end. I expect in my dream to hear large jet engines roaring overhead--real life intrudes on my dream, but instead there is a magnificent boom and a large mushroom cloud appears. The world goes jaundice. I can feel and see the dreadful dust working its way through the air. I am in a building with a small square window looking out on a young man. In an effort to meet with him and save him, maybe, I squish my body through the small window. He takes my hand and we run into the dust.
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In the next scene I am in a hospital room filled with boxes. In the bed beside mine is my husband. We aren't harmed, and neither one of us seems ill. We are going through boxes and looking at photographs. The mood is intimate and quiet. Suddenly my father-in-law barges into the room, he hands my husband a greeting card in an envelope. I am annoyed, as is my husband. My father-in-law doesn't seem to sense that he has intruded.
---
Last night I dreamt that my dead aunt P is resurrected -- only temporarily.
I find her curled up on a sofa weeping. I sit beside her and touch her warm skin. She tells me, through hard sobs, that she is sad because in the few short years since her death her husband has moved on. She feels that her life on Earth has been forgotten. I don't know how to comfort her and so I only continue to stroke the warm skin of her arm. Her heartbreak is palpable.

doesn't fit into my life

-----I am away on a trip. I'm speaking Italian while everyone around me speaks French. I am readying to return home but have to pack. I can only bring one suitcase, a backpack and a canvas bag. My room is cluttered with clothes and books and trinkets. There are shelves covered with books and trinkets. I don't know how I can possibly fit it all and return home. I poke through the shelves and begin making fresh new "give-away" piles. The bigger books cannot come with me. I do find an audio Shakespeare though and feel that I cannot part with it---it is Shakespeare's voice on the cassette, apparently. The pile is growing higher and I begin to fill my suitcase and backpack. Still there is not enough room.

I take a coffee break and stand in line with young women speaking French. I'm annoyed, not only because I have no idea what anyone is saying, but the woman in front of me is making eyes at a dark-haired stranger and I think he's Italian---a possible comrade. I make my purchase and disappear.

gotta get back

into the habit.

Clippings from last night's dream time:
I am attending a business school "undercover", only there are multiple people from my high school in attendance and they are going to possibly blow my cover. I sit in on a board meeting and vocalize my worry over for-profit educational institutions. My voice is not popular among faculty and the dean, but outsiders in suits take interest.
I make my way through the halls and feel nostalgic, wondering who, if any, of my old friends are taking night classes. I head outside into a dark, snowy parking lot and feel threatened. A girl is right at my back and sending hostile vibes. I turn around and she pounces, I fight her off and throw her against a fender and make my escape while onlookers try to figure what happened.

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Boring dream recap, but a start. One of my sister-in-laws was telling me recently about a writer who records all of her dreams, and I realized what good exercise this is for me.