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And the moral of this story is...
I'll try to keep this short, because other people's dreams usually aren't all that fascinating:
I dreamed that I'd been at a convention, which had ended, but I was hanging out at the hotel, reading, until I needed to leave for the airport. Some folks from the convention were still there, but there were new people that invited me to sit with them and have some food. I sat down with them and called out to some of the con people how much I'd enjoyed staying up all night playing poker with them. Someone at the table asked if I'd stayed up too late, and I said, "Only because I have to fly out today... *looks at watch and panics*
My watch said 1:05 pm. I pulled out my ticket, and it said 2:30 p.m. Everyone around me started saying, "Oh, you still have time, you can make it, maybe somebody here can give you a ride, blah blah blah."
This is when I woke up. This is not a good way to wake up. I was in panic mode! I decided I needed to 'fix this' before I started my day in earnest. So I rolled over and started thinking about what I should do to get to the airport on time. Some of this was conscious thought, and probably a lot of it took place while I was dozing off.
I went to the hotel concierge! She tells me they have a helicopter on the roof just about to take a VIP to the airport. She calls the roof on the hotel phone, while she's speed dialing my airline on her cell. So the helicopter is being held for me, and she's telling the airline I'm on my way, reading the information off my ticket. Then she hands me her cell to answer questions the airline has, and tells me to take it up to the roof with me and just hand it back to the bellman she's sending with me.
So I talk to the airline while I'm on the elevator, give the bellman the phone, get buckled into the helicopter...and they hand me a glass of champagne! We fly to the airport, and I'm met with a wheelchair and an airport employee who goes racing through the hallways with me clutching my luggage on my lap.
I wake up again, thinking, "That's much better. I'm at the airport, at least. But I won't be confident until I'm actually on board the plane." So I rolled over again, and soon I'm comfortably seated in the first class seat they'd apparently decided to upgrade me to, and the stewardess is handing me a glass of champagne, saying, "I hear you're drinking Noilly Prat today." Success! I can now get out of bed and face the day. :-)
The moral of this story is that I need to pay more attention to the passage of time and not let myself get distracted and miss deadlines. In other words, I need to be writing! I need to finish up my ficathon piece, my final kink bingo story. I need to get back to my big bang. I need to finish those so that I can concentrate on other things in my life that are being neglected.
The other moral of this story is that when your dreams hand you lemons, make champagne.
But the true lesson of this story is that Noilly Prat is a vermouth, not a champagne. *g*
I dreamed that I'd been at a convention, which had ended, but I was hanging out at the hotel, reading, until I needed to leave for the airport. Some folks from the convention were still there, but there were new people that invited me to sit with them and have some food. I sat down with them and called out to some of the con people how much I'd enjoyed staying up all night playing poker with them. Someone at the table asked if I'd stayed up too late, and I said, "Only because I have to fly out today... *looks at watch and panics*
My watch said 1:05 pm. I pulled out my ticket, and it said 2:30 p.m. Everyone around me started saying, "Oh, you still have time, you can make it, maybe somebody here can give you a ride, blah blah blah."
This is when I woke up. This is not a good way to wake up. I was in panic mode! I decided I needed to 'fix this' before I started my day in earnest. So I rolled over and started thinking about what I should do to get to the airport on time. Some of this was conscious thought, and probably a lot of it took place while I was dozing off.
I went to the hotel concierge! She tells me they have a helicopter on the roof just about to take a VIP to the airport. She calls the roof on the hotel phone, while she's speed dialing my airline on her cell. So the helicopter is being held for me, and she's telling the airline I'm on my way, reading the information off my ticket. Then she hands me her cell to answer questions the airline has, and tells me to take it up to the roof with me and just hand it back to the bellman she's sending with me.
So I talk to the airline while I'm on the elevator, give the bellman the phone, get buckled into the helicopter...and they hand me a glass of champagne! We fly to the airport, and I'm met with a wheelchair and an airport employee who goes racing through the hallways with me clutching my luggage on my lap.
I wake up again, thinking, "That's much better. I'm at the airport, at least. But I won't be confident until I'm actually on board the plane." So I rolled over again, and soon I'm comfortably seated in the first class seat they'd apparently decided to upgrade me to, and the stewardess is handing me a glass of champagne, saying, "I hear you're drinking Noilly Prat today." Success! I can now get out of bed and face the day. :-)
The moral of this story is that I need to pay more attention to the passage of time and not let myself get distracted and miss deadlines. In other words, I need to be writing! I need to finish up my ficathon piece, my final kink bingo story. I need to get back to my big bang. I need to finish those so that I can concentrate on other things in my life that are being neglected.
The other moral of this story is that when your dreams hand you lemons, make champagne.
But the true lesson of this story is that Noilly Prat is a vermouth, not a champagne. *g*
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Thanks, dear. *returns squish*
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