She needed to take her car to the mechanic and I didn't ask why. I picked her up. The drive to the mechanic's shop was uneventful. The shop was busy; cars were parked all over the lot and inside with mechanics peering beneath the raised hoods. We found the owner. As she spoke with him, I strolled around the perimeter noting the cars, their make and style. I've always been a car enthusiast.

Eventually I made full circle back to my starting point and looked around for my little Toyota. Not found where I left it and knowing my history of losing large objects with wheels on it, I kept looking. Hidden toward the back of this shop, I found the little white Toyota, hood up, engine torn down, and dripping with new paint. "Wait", I ordered. The man working on the little Toyota looked up, ignored me and kept on doing whatever the heck he was doing to my little car.

If I could have ran I would have but instead I just walked as fast as possible back to the last place I had seen the owner of this shop talking with her who had planned on leaving her car here. I charged up to him and voiced my complaints. "What do you think you are doing with my Toyota" and I have to admit, I was screaming just a little. He denied knowing anything about what I was screaming so loudly about. He followed me back to where I had last seen my little car. He actually denied that it was my beloved for 20 yrs. Toyota. I took the keys, stuck it into the keyhole in the door and showed him that it opened the door. Fearing that if I left the car there while going for the police, he would just hide it, I removed both doors and carried them away so I could prove to somebody that he had my car and the doors and my key that fit those doors were proof of my ownership. Clever thinking on my part huh?

I must have called the police although I don't remember this part. I do remember that the prosecuting attorney appeared and in front of the shop owner, she told me that they had been trying to get solid proof of this man operating this racket. I was so relieved that somebody was going to believe me.

I woke up. I, who seldom ever remembers her dreams, awoke with a racing heartbeat and still believing the Toyota had been stolen, refurbished, painted and prepared for resale by the devious shop owner. I actually walked to the carport door, cranked open the window blind in the door and peeked out. It was parked where I had left it.

I'm clueless as to the why of this. I'm trying not to associate this with the car fiasco at the mall last week. I'm not a dream analyst and I'm not real sure I want it analyzed. It wasn't a pleasant morning of dreaming and I was thrilled to wake. Though the dream appeared real even when awake, though I seldom remember any dreams I have, I have to wonder why this one was so vivid and real to me.

Tonight it's an Ambien at bedtime and a better night's sleep for me. Good night hopefully!