I’ve had a recurring dream for several years now.  I suppose it could be called a nightmare.

I’m driving on a highway and I come upon a bridge.  This is no ordinary bridge, though.  It’s huge and very, very narrow.  It has what seems like thousands of bends and turns in it.  Bendy, hundreds of miles high and long, but only about thirty feet wide.

I have a passenger in the car.  Sometimes, it’s my brother.  Sometimes, it’s my daughter.  Other times, it’s a particular younger cousin with whom I have a very close relationship.  The role of “passenger” in my dream always rotates between these three people.  It’s never my husband, my parents or any of my friends.  Just one of these three people.  People I for whom I feel very responsible.

As I near the bridge, I feel the panic rise up in my chest.  In my real life, I have a pronounced fear of heights.  My dream does not exempt me from this fear.

My hands start sweating.  The bridge is getting closer.  There’s no way to turn around.  I have to go over.

I glance at my passenger and smile.  Everything’s fine, my smile says.

The passenger smiles back, they’re completely unaware of how completely terrified I am at this very moment.  And a small part of me is grateful for that fact as I start to drive on this bridge that is so high that it’s practically vertical.

As I near the apex of the bridge, I realize a truth.  I’m going to crash this car.  I’m going to have an accident.  I am going to drive this car right off of the side of this bridge on accident sending both me and my passenger into the icy depths of the ocean below.

I do nothing to indicate this epiphany to my passenger.  I just smile.  Everything is going to be fine.  Isn’t this fun?

We start to descend.  I’m working on an escape plan.  Do we jump out of the car before it crashes?  Do I roll the windows down so we can get out once we hit the water?  Do I even tell the person in the car with me what’s going to happen?  Will they even be able to understand and handle that information?

I feel the car gaining speed as we descend.  We’re going too fast.  I tap the brakes.  Nothing is happening.  I hit the brakes a little harder.  Nothing is happening.

This is it.

This is where we crash.  And I have no plan.

The car starts to veer towards the railing.  What do I do?

I become frantic.  I look at my passenger.  They’re busy with something.  They don’t notice.  They don’t know what’s going to happen.  Oh.  My.  God.

I open my mouth to scream.  Then, I wake up.

And thank goodness I find a box of Girl Scout Thin Mint Chocolate Cookies sitting on the counter when I stumble into the kitchen after all of that nonsense.

Any recurring dreams that make you happy there’s a box of cookies on your counter in the middle of the night?