Destination Unknown

I’ve never had a good sense of direction. Couple that with my preference for meandering to find my way rather than consulting a map for directions and you have my basic roadmap for life. I will however, occasionally, ask for directions and in my dream the other night, I asked Steve Jobs. Though I had no idea where I was actually headed, somehow I knew I had driven off course; that I hadn’t taken a certain road indicated by some directional iPhone app. Naturally, though I was lost, I had driven to an Apple compound of sorts that also happened to employ several high school friends. As I exited the ladies room, Steve Job exited the men’s room. “Excuse me, I’m really sorry to bother you sir. I’ve been using this app; I think I took a wrong turn and I’m not sure how far back I need to go.”

Steve hesitated for a moment but then produced a clipboard with a blank print out of the mapquest like app. He filled in the blanks writing down the directions for me to get me back on my way…destination still unknown.

I thanked him as he handed me the clipboard and let him get back to his very busy schedule.

Before departing, I thought I’d take some time with my old friends and ventured up to the second floor. I was greeted by familiar faces…a nice little reunion indeed...until a woman I had never seen, a woman I took to be Mrs. Jobs or Ex-Mrs. Jobs , enraged by my presence, yelled at me that I had to leave instantly and that I was not welcome there. My friend took my arm, “Let’s go, you should get out of here.” She walked me downstairs and as we said our goodbyes in the cool of the outside air, I realized I left the clip board up stairs. I was struck with panic. “I forgot my clipboard, I forgot my clipboard,” I kept yelling. Words, that out of context, would only resonate with Julie, social director for the Love Boat. “I forgot my clipboard,” I repeated as tears rolled down my face. I was still lost and had no idea where I was going. Then I woke up.

You’d think one directional dream in a week would be bad enough. Enough to alert you that your inner compass needed to be readjusted, realigned, re-northed, or whatever it is they do to directional instruments. I am lucky enough that my psyche knows me well enough that one major and very vivid clue into my subconscious sometimes isn’t enough. Sometimes I ignore the clues the universe chooses to give me, admittedly sometimes on purpose…

Even more vivid than Steve Jobs and his clipboard was a dream I had last night. I was on a subway platform that is flanked by 2 trains heading in opposite directions. (I say that only because some NYC subway platforms are flanked by trains going in one direction where one side is express and the other local, in which case taking the wrong one is a minor annoyance.) So there I am, on the platform, what I hope is a slightly younger version of me since I’m with my boyfriend, who happens to look like a 14 yr old, and his mother. They decide to quickly check on something, use the bathroom or get a drink from the water fountain at the other end of the platform. I’m not quite sure what they’re doing, but in their absence the train comes...It was imperative we not miss this train though I still can’t tell you why or where we were headed. I grab the backpack my boyfriend left behind and decide to jump on the train, thinking they’d jump on at their end knowing that someone as thoughtful as I am would have the presence of mind to realize they’d assume I’d pick up the bag and join them on the train. Now on the train, I watch as we pass a few stops, not at all wondering where my adolescent love and his mother have gone and I realize I’m going in the wrong direction. I mistook the train that came for the one we needed and asked the woman next to me what the next stop was. Before she answers, the subway car has turned into a greyhound bus and we’re on some small highway. Snow is falling and is beginning to accumulate. “Pittsburgh,” she replies. “What?” “Stop the bus,” I tell the driver. “You can’t get off, once we’ve departed you can’t get off until we make a stop,” he answers with no sympathy. “When’s the next stop?” I say containing as much of my panic as possible. “In about five to ten minutes.” “How am I going to get back to New York City from here?” I ask containing less of my panic than before. “You can get a cab.” “A cab, there are no cabs here, I don’t know the number for a cab out here,” I respond helplessly, tears rolling down my face.

I woke up like a shot, my heart racing and with the complete stress of someone in a broken down car on an isolated road and no way to call for help. Again, I didn’t know what my intended destination was supposed to be, but it certainly wasn’t Pittsburgh.