It’s 4 am. I just woke up from the weirdest dream.
Dreamt that I’d wanted to go to Baghdad, so I’d booked a cheap flight via Dar-es-Salam, Tanzania, thinking to drive the rest of the way. But I’d somehow forgotten to book a rental, had underestimated the distance, and had forgotten about the problems posed by the existence of international borders and the Red Sea. As I belatedly made this realization, the cab showed up to take me to the airport–but I’d forgotten my flight information. So I went to my computer to refresh my memory, but inexplicably found myself in a public Internet cafe in Manhattan, able to remember but unable to type my password. When the guy next to me asked what was wrong, I explained the problem to him by bursting into tears, and then spelled my password out to everyone within hearing.
At this point, to my evident relief, I woke up and realized that in fact, all was well: I was safely ensconced in Readington, New Jersey, two feet away from a bottle of melatonin, during the second day of a three-day weekend.
I wonder what this dream was about?