Life and Dreams Intersect, Violently

I was dreaming that I'd gone to reunion event at my undergrad school. When I arrived (huff, puff) and ran to the official gathering spot, there were just a few people there, including my boss's boss (not an alum). I decided to backpeddle out of there quick-like.

I gave up trying to find my car, and rested on a lawn. A youngish man (anywhere between 20 and 40) was rehearsing a familiar-sounding cadence with a group of young women who were having trouble coordinating their movements to the beat. In the dream world, the cadence was an updated version of one that had been in use twenty-five years before, when I was a student. I tried to ask him about this, but couldn't articulate my question.

I left campus (must have found the car), intending to drive home, but took the wrong turn on a complex uber-cloverleaf. Headed back toward campus on a frontage road, I started to panic. "It's 7:05! I should have been home hours ago! I have to take my daughter somewhere!"

A great weight hit me in the midsection. I cried out and lost control of the car, which headed over an embankment and into a ditch, crashing into...

"Argggh! What?!? NO! GET THE DOG OFF ME!!"

My daughter had dropped the dog on me to wake me up.