A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes
I'm sober and I am SLEEPING. It is long hard sleep. It is good and hopefully making up for the last 20 years of lack of sleep due to drinking. With sleep comes dreams. And, they are FREAKY.
Last night I dreamt that I was sitting in the Denver airport waiting to get on a flight to Chicago. I was number one on the upgrade (to first class) list, so I waited until about 15 minutes before departure to see if I was going to get upgraded. The gate agent never called my name, so I walked up to her and asked if I would be getting the upgrade or if I needed to take my seat in economy. She started saying, "Hurry hurry hurry, the plane is about to depart. Why did you wait so long?"
I told her I waited because she told me to, with a "duh" look on my face. I scanned my boarding pass and went into the jetbridge. But, it wasn't a jet bridge. It was a labyrinth of theatre stages where it said gate numbers above the stages. People were dancing, drinking and partying. Gates 14, 15, and 16. First I went to stage 14 and it was a departure to Pittsburgh. There were people singing. It was dark like a theatre. I started a long journey down a huge staircase to gate 15. I was passing people falling down. I was carrying all of my luggage struggling myself. There was an old lady that I had to stop and help because she'd fallen. I didn't have time to help, but I did anyway.
I finally found the correct gate, just to see the gate agent walk out and say, "I told you to hurry, the plane has already departed." Then, I got super mad that I'd helped the old lady. I yelled at the gate agent. I yelled into the sky. I was angry and I called an yelled at a hotel receptionist when booking a room at the hotel.
All I can imagine is my dream is my subconscious' way of saying I needed to stop trying to help everyone to my own detriment. And, that I might be traveling too much. Cheers, off to London for the weekend. Here we go again.