"...my tornado paranoia..."

I had an odd dream last night. I think I'm going to have to get one of those dream interpretation books to figure it out.

I was in a museum in Small Town, USA (I don't think Small Town actually has a museum, but in my dream it does) with P.B., Branflake, my parents, and my sister. We were watching a live feed video of the town and watched as a tornado formed and hit a small apartment complex near the Bird House. I left Branflake with my sister and dad then P.B., my mother, and I left the museum to check out the damage and to drive by the Bird House to see if it was hit. 

While we were out on the road another tornado formed and we took a road that led us out into farm land in order to avoid it (I don't know if the direction makes a difference or not, but I had a distinct feeling that we were east of town). I don't think we were exactly chasing storms, but we kept driving around in the flat farm land and tornadoes were forming all around us. 

Once a tornado was about to cross our path on the road and P.B. would have driven us right into it if I hadn't told him to stop. I remember thinking to myself that the timing of that stop was just in time.

We took a right onto another country road and ahead (south) of us three dark cyclones formed and began to twist around each other. I got out my camera and started taking video. We quickly realized the triclone was heading for us and turned around and began driving away, but we weren't fast enough and the storm was upon us. 

Dirt was swirling everywhere in the air and all I was breathing was dirt so I had to keep spitting to get it out of my nose and mouth. And then it was over. We'd survived. 

We started driving back, but there was a traffic jam on the road leading into town so we got out and walked. The weather was still horrible, the sky was dark and had a greenish tinge. We walked through a gypsy camp (WTF). There was a creepy old toothless lady trying to sell something to me. We realized they were in danger since they only had tents to take shelter in so we led them to the police station.

After leading the gypsies to safety we went back to the museum. My sister and my dad ran out to meet us. Dad was holding Branflake and he looked so skinny, like we'd been gone for days and he hadn't eaten and it dawned on me that when we left them at the museum I hadn't left anything for Branflake to eat while we were gone. I took him from my dad and was holding him and crying and apologizing when P.B. woke me up.

Most of this probably just stems from my tornado paranoia, but I might look it up out of curiosity.