On dreams and reality

I've had a variation of the same bad dream for years now. I'm headed to the airport to go to Paris, running late for my flight, and realize as I'm about to check in that I've forgotten my passport, and I don't have time to go back home and get it. There's probably some big underlying reason for these dreams that is rooted with in my subconcious about insecurity or feelings of being unprepared for work, parenthood, life. However, I just think it means I really, really want to go to Paris. Once I dreamt that I was actually there, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, and I couldn't believe it and broke into tears of joy.

It's not that I'm untraveled. I've been all over Italy and Switzerland; to Prague, Budapest, Bratislava, and Vienna; to London, Mexico, and the Carribbean. I've just never been to Paris. This is especially galling as I attended a French school for five years and took eight years of French classes.

However, this is a roundabout way to say WE BOUGHT TICKETS TO PARIS YESTERDAY! I am FINALLY getting to go!! It's our tenth anniversary, we've found someone to take care of the little girl for a week, and we have a hotel that is actually somewhat affordable in the center of the city. It's like a dream come true...except for the passport thing. And, yes, I'm such a basket case that I actually have already checked our passports to make sure a) I knew where they were, and b) that they weren't expired.

So, I am off to resume my floating five feet off the ground. I will soon return to my regularly scheduled angst.