I woke from a terrible dream this morning. It was the last dream of the night and, unlike other dreams that turn into mist in the daylight, this dream has replayed over and over in my mind as clearly as a video on my iPad.

My husband and I were driving on a newly constructed highway. It was sleek and clean and the lanes were widely spaced. Overpasses crisscrossed above us so thickly that it felt like we were driving in a tunnel.

Instead of pavement, the surface, sides, and columns were made from interlocking red brick. Even the underside had a layer of brick. Everything was so well blended by the uniform design that the car went up the sloping embankment by mistake because it looked just like the road. Only the sharp tilt of the car gave it away.

Cars were all zipping smoothly and quickly around the curves of the road, flashes of sunlight blinking through like a strobe light. Two cars zigzagged past us and purposely rose up the slope to clip the column. Several bricks fell as the cars zoomed off with whoops of laughter. I yelled for my husband to follow the cars to record their license plates.

I felt my head force backward as he sped forward. I looked back and the feeling of dread spread as I realized that, like a keystone, those missing bricks would allow everything to fall apart. The bricks tumbled slowly, then more and more quickly, spreading up to the overpass. Like a jigsaw puzzle, I saw pieces and chunks fall apart and drop to the ground. Cars screeched to a stop and some were crushed as we continued forward, swerving to avoid the falling bricks. We weren’t chasing the culprits anymore, we were just trying to get through the death trap.

I screamed for the occupants of a partly crushed car to stay in the car. Even now, I know that my rationale was that no more bricks would fall on that spot but, as we drove off, I hoped I hadn’t ordered them to their inevitable deaths.

Like only dreams are capable of doing, the scene changed enough for me to suddenly realize that the kids had been in backseat but weren’t any longer. My prior dread was nothing compared to the absolute anguish of knowing that we had to go back and not knowing what we’d find.

Much too late, but thankfully, my body jolted itself out of this nightmare and I didn’t move until I was aware enough to recognize that it had been a dream, everyone was safe, and I was in my bed.

And, THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why I look and feel like absolute shit this morning.