9/19/00 10:25 AM
(dream)
I had neglected to book my return
flight but, using my cell phone, got one for the following evening at
8:57. I seem to have stayed up all night and it was difficult to get
around, the taxis being so expensive and I being so unfamiliar with the city
(though the cabin represented a version of Maine). The main concern of
the dream was catching the flight; I obsessed about it all day, worried that I
wouldn't make it; at some point in the afternoon I realized I'd have to go back
to the cabin for my luggage (and there was no way to simply send someone on an
errand to fetch it because it was too hard to describe my luggage apart from
the other baggage strewn about that corner of the cabin), and I eventually
resigned myself to having to miss the flight and hope for the cooperation of
the airline staff in helping me get onto the next plane. When I at last
arrived, however, I dilly-dallied and waited for someone at one of the booths
to arrive, when I glanced at my watch and saw - to my great surprise and
horror, that it was exactly 8:57. I asked in panic if the machine were
still on the ground.... indeed it was, and someone led me down the boarding
corridor. Just as soon as the plane came into view I could see it slowly
rolling away. I cursed and screamed, very loudly, over and over...