This morning the alarm went off at 8 am, since we had friends coming over at 9 am to watch the French Open. I hit snooze a couple of times, and in the first ten minutes I dreamed I was at an automated kiosk at an airport checking in for a flight to go on vacation with J.
I had this weird feeling that I couldn't remember exactly which country we were going to, but I kept thinking it was Iran or Iraq. And then I would think to myself, why are we going there? And since I couldn't remember why we were going, I couldn't really remember exactly where we were going. But no matter, because soon I realized I had forgotten my passport at home. Just then, J walked by me in a light grey suit (have I ever seen him in a suit other than when he rented a tux for our wedding?), and I told him hastily and apologetically that I had forgotten my passport and I didn't know what we were going to do since our flight was leaving in only 15 minutes! He didn't seem perturbed at all, and told me that he was sure they would give me a boarding pass anyway. I really didn't believe him, since after all we were going to Iran or Iraq or some country where it seemed unlikely they would let me just waltz on in, but nonetheless, he was right.
At some point, I then hit snooze for the second time, and spent the next five minutes dreaming about a woman putting in my information in order to give me a boarding pass.
And then slowly, five minutes before the next alarm was set to go off, I felt myself coming out of the dream, waking up in our lovely bedroom, with the French doors wide open and a light breeze coming in, and several birds were chirping different songs outside. Out loud, I said to J, who was still sleeping, "I don't think I've ever heard that song before." And he sort of mumbled something in return, half awake from the two alarms that had gone off. And then I got up and felt quite relieved that I wasn't actually trying to check in for a flight to Iran or Iraq or wherever we might have been headed.
I have no idea what that was all about.
Or hm, ... after sitting here at my computer a little more and thinking about it, I now think the dream came from a combination of general work- and life-related anxiety, feeling unsure about our planning for an upcoming trip to Brazil this August (which I'm sure I'll write more about later), and worrying about where in the world we will be headed after Philadelphia and whether I will be ready for it. And come to think of it, J is calmer and more relaxed about this stuff than I am. While J doesn't worry about things until there is actually something to worry about, I start my worrying early. One thing I am pretty confident about, though, is that neither of us will be heading to Iran or Iraq after Philadelphia.