Finally was able to catch a bit of sleep only to be embroiled in an epic nightmare. I was working at The Pittsburgh Job Corps but as is often the case with dreams it was something else entirely. I was in my thirties. Donald Trump was in charge. An important family was coming to visit from Russia with their three children, two teenagers and a little boy. Donald had assigned me to watch over them as their goodwill ambassador, and I was over the moon, and felt honored. I went shopping for clothes to meet and greet them in and decided on a little white tee shirt with an impressionist print of a Russian scene with trees in yellow and pale blue that resembled a Matisse to wear beneath a dark brown beautifully cut jacket and a black skirt.
In the meantime the family had arrived and were setting into their bright city apartment where they were supposed to be staying for sometime. It had a lot of windows and was haunted. I did not know what haunted the place, only that the family was not the first victims. The specter had taken out the balding father in his navy blue suit, the mother, with her short curly dark blonde hair, and the two teens, a girl and a boy. I did not witness the deaths, only a trail of blood, and another sort of spirit, something else entirely, like a faery or a doll, hiding the little boy dressed in blue fuzzy pajamas, clutching a toy, in a bottom kitchen cabinet from the murderous ghost.
But in the dream I was separate and had no idea this had occurred. I was still excited and preparing for their arrival, to show them around. Donald thought I looked smart in my fun new clothes. I still had some running around to do and was driving The Betsy, the '71 Monte Carlo I grew up with. I was in downtown Pittsburgh. It was a dark and dreadful day. A howling winter storm had set in. When I came back from my shopping Betsy was gone, and I wondered if I had parked her in a fire lane. She was parked against the curb in a sort of round-about of wild Pittsburgh traffic. My rational mind told me there was no time for this, and I lucidly blinked her back like Jeannie and continued with my errands. The second time I came back I found her parked on the other side of the road. I drove back to the Job Corps that wasn't. It looked more like an airport, someplace hopping.
I changed my clothes and put my new clothes into a tall iron receptacle, something like a mailbox or trashcan in the main office. Another girl was with me and did the same. It was a kind of storage unit which seemed impossible as the clothing was packed into a crumpled heap. I had changed into my red chiffon gown. Donald thought I looked very nice. When I came back for my new clothes, however, they were gone from the receptacle along with the other girl's. Donald and a dark haired woman in a blue suit with a white shirt and red tie, (they were dressed the same, like Obama's Scooby Doo blue suit), who I presumed was his wife, were seated behind a plate of glass like air traffic controllers. I told them about my missing clothes, and the woman was very short and wrote me off quickly with such disregard that I just walked away feeling helpless. I knew better than to try to argue with her. I was just going to have to meet them in my gown. I didn't want to but had no choice. I waited. Then, Donald said that they weren't coming, something terrible had happened.
