that my car - my NEW car - got trashed. And it was awful. It started out at the chapel. I parked my car where I normally park, down in the lower lot. As I was walking up the stairs to go into church, I pressed the little lock-my-car-set-the-alarm button, fully expecting to hear the horn of my car assure me all was well in the world. But I didn’t hear it. So I turned around, pressing the button over and over, but still nothing. Well, not NOTHING. Somehow the lock button on my keychain also served as the remote start button for the car next to where I had parked, so it was reving up. NICE. I mean, I can’t lock my car anymore, but I can start someone else’s!

Then I realized my car wasn’t sitting where I had parked it anymore!!! I must have left it in neutral and forgotten the e-brake, because my car had rolled backwards and down the hill. Along the way it had scraped against a tree - doing complete and utter MY CAR IS TOTALLED kind of damage. Axles broken, windows shattered. I mean, the thing looked like it had been broadsided by a mack truck. I can still see it in my head.

My only consolation at the time was that I had paid for the extra GAP protection on my car loan, so hopefully insurance would totally cover it. (I can’t believe I was dreaming about GAP protection. What is the world coming to???)

And then I woke up. As my mind began to clear, I realized I was in my house, in my bed, and my car was sitting happily (did you know a car could be happy?) in my driveway. Unscathed. Unscratched. Untotalled.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and got up to take my shower.