I was pulling onto an expressway from a right side on-ramp into four lanes of heavy,
high-speed traffic. I negotiated the merge and got into the second lane. I was moving along at a good clip, keeping pace with all the other people on the road. I checked, and we were all traveling at 65 mph. I passed a sign saying "Speed Limit 45". I felt uneasy with my speed and tried to slow down. Nothing would work. I just kept barreling along at 65 mph. The funny thing about this highway was that no one was actually in a vehicle. We were all just moving along like floating drivers and passengers, as though we were performing a pantomime of driving a car. Still anxious about the 45mph speed limit, I started reaching m
y feet down toward the rushing pavement below to try and regulate my speed, Flintstone-style. This was nerve-racking of course, because I was barefoot, and because I couldn't really image that the foot-stop would be a productive breaking technique at 65mph. Sure enough, skidding one heel on the ground made me spin around backwards. I waved to the family gliding along behind me in my lane as I kept shooting forward down the road, my invisible vehicle apparently unphased by my heel-dragging. Eventually, with the use of a toe-plant, I got myself facing forward again, where I continued nervously hurtling on at 65 mph.
What could this possibly mean!? I'm not one to put too much stock in dream-interpretation, but I am staying home sick today in what I hope is a more effective method of foot-dragging.
Well, I had originally written a whole long bit theorizing some sort of thesis metaphor for your dream, Alex, at which point I read it over and then deleted it all. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. And if the dream draws metaphors with the flintstones, awesome. Hope you're feeling better. :)
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