We've all heard of the nightmare where you stand up in front of a crowd of people and you've forgotten to put on clothes, or the one where you left the house in a hurry and forgot pants entirely. Some of us may have even had one (or two) of them only to wake up snug in our beds realizing that yes, it was all just a dream. A nightmare.
I've been having nightmares all week.
First, I dream that I've made it all the way past the ticketing counter and through the TSA security line only to discover that they won't let me on the plane. My family has left me. I am all alone. I have nobody to turn to.
A little guilt about taking that vacay with the girls? Perhaps.
Then I've made it to Palm Springs, which looks a lot (in this nightmare anyway) like Cabo. I open my suitcase to pull out my favorite shirt, the only one I've packed for some reason, and there is a huge burn mark in the shape of my iron singed into the delicate fabric that I so love and was counting on to keep me cool, comfortable and classy while sipping fruity drinks in the desert. I cry and cry and cry. And then I wake up from that nightmare.
Worried about being away from my family for five whole days? Perhaps.
I have been having another nightmare. The one where the plane crashes and I'm wandering the earth as a ghost. I can see my children and my husband, but they can't see me. I try to tell them that I love them and I miss them so, but there is nothing I can do. It is awful, this nightmare, so much so that I wake physically feeling worn, like I have not slept even a minute of the night.
Obsessing over being away from my family? Perhaps.
And then there is the nightmare of losing my copy of Breaking Dawn before I've finished it. That book is too large to even fit in my suitcase and there's no way I'm leaving it behind until I know what happens to Bella. So I cram it, hardcover and over 700 pages and all, into my carry on only to find that it isn't there. Somewhere between security and taking my place in my seat, I've lost it. The final book in the series that has kept my attention for a 2-week span of time above all other things, including showering.
(I may be exaggerating a little with the showering part, but you get the picture)
Addicted to all things Stephenie Meyer? Perhaps.
The good thing is that if you are reading this post, I am well into my vacation, my much needed, sunny, lounging by the pool, hiking in the desert, strolling the beautiful shops without children vacation.
That is, unless a vampire has snuck into my blogger account and published this for me.