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I'm jogging along an access road between a highway and a residential subdivision -- very much like the green swaled approach to Chapel Hill from Durham thirty years ago. There's a conversation by other folks over my jogger's POV about how much a travesty it is that this section of town isn't landscaped appropriately.
I'm in a seat on an airplane waiting at the gate, but it's the wrong seat, wrong plane. I don't have my ticket. I leave the plane and there's my mother with my luggage (and tons of food) and she has my ticket as well. I have to repack to get all the bags of food suitable for the carry on limits and then i'm talking to the gate agent (who is outside the security zone) about getting the right flight set up, and there's much questioning about how i was on the plane without a ticket.
[OK, the bit about my mother and baggage: Oh, my is that symbolic or what!! Landscaping along a highway? I've no clue except to find it rather typical of my dreams.]
I'm in a seat on an airplane waiting at the gate, but it's the wrong seat, wrong plane. I don't have my ticket. I leave the plane and there's my mother with my luggage (and tons of food) and she has my ticket as well. I have to repack to get all the bags of food suitable for the carry on limits and then i'm talking to the gate agent (who is outside the security zone) about getting the right flight set up, and there's much questioning about how i was on the plane without a ticket.
[OK, the bit about my mother and baggage: Oh, my is that symbolic or what!! Landscaping along a highway? I've no clue except to find it rather typical of my dreams.]
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