Jul. 24th, 2009

What follows is a transcription of my frenzied attempt to record in full detail a nightmare that quite literally forced me from my bed at 3 this morning. I think I'm gonna leave it unedited for the most part, just to remind myself what it's like to write in my journal full speed ahead -- trusting my pen to get everything right or as close to right as possible. Your thoughts and interpretations are welcome, of course!



Nightmares really suck. Especially this most recent one. I was on a plane headed for Ireland, fully settled into my aisle seat with Edward the vampire, -- NOT Robert Pattinson but Edward freaking Cullen --complete with sparkling marble skin and perfect bedhead sitting to my left. We were listening to the safety spiel presented by the flight crew. My overhead luggage was stowed, my purse -- the little black one I've been using most recently -- was stuffed into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of me, and I was holding a jar of crunchy peanut butter.

Over the rumble of the plane's engines, I turned to Edward and said I'd be right back -- the knife I had for spreading my snack was only good for spreading vegan peanut butter, you see -- and it was imperative that I fetch a replacement immediately.

"Be careful," he warned. The safety spiel continued as I flung off my seatbelt and pushed past a stewardess to get to the front of the plane.

For whatever reason, my replacement knife was back in the airport terminal and the scene cut to that location. With my new knife in hand, I started for a heavy elevator door that was closing over the entrance to the ramp leading back to the plane. I stuck my hand in the space between the door and the wall, fully expecting to set off a sensor that would force it back open. But the door slid shut anyway, and no amount of force on my part could pry it back open.

Hysteria settled in as I heard my plane pull away from the ramp -- its roaring engines faded off into the distance.

"Nooooo!!!! Stop the plane, stop the plane!" I screamed, banging my fists on the metal door.

The boarding attendant shrugged and shook her head. "I'm sorry m'aam, but your plane is gone."

"You have to bring it back!" I cried, suddenly sitting with my knees hugged tightly to my chest. "I can't miss this trip."

For a split second I considered booking a new ticket for the next flight out, but remembered that all my IDs and credit cards and cash were on the plane that had just left.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and I felt completely lost and hopeless and pissed off at the unsympathetic boarding agent.

I woke with a start right after that. I was short of breath and panicked and quite literally shaking.

Having written all of this, I still haven't been able to regain full control of my breathing.

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