I was in Koontz Lake Missionary Church talking with my little brother as he played Solitaire on the computer in my father's office. He asked me if I was going to the Paul McCartney show that would take place in the fellowship hall of the church twenty minutes from that moment. I freaked out and ran up to the fellowship hall and, sure enough, Paul was warming up with his band. I desperately wanted to record the event with my video and audio equipment, but I wasn't sure if I could make it back to the church in time after going home to get my stuff. I wanted to preserve the event, but I didn't want to miss a single moment of it.
I rushed outside to my white Cutlas Sierra (which I no longer own). As I pulled out of the church parking lot, I pictured in my head where I last left my camera and microphone. I figured that it was probably still sitting on the couch in my parents' living room from the last time I used it. As I distanced myself from the church, I heard Paul covering a Broken Bells song (High Road), and I panicked, for I didn't not to miss any cool covers.
I sped down the road, hoping that I would not get pulled over on the short trip. However, something worse happened. An insane snow storm hit all of the sudden (the dream took place in the middle of the summer; well, until that point it did, if that makes any sense). The roads instantly became covered with several feet of snow, and I no longer moved ahead, though my wheels were still rapidly spinning.
I sat in the car, going only inches, for several minutes before I finally awoke.
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