Somewhere in Europe, in a three-story house, there is a box in a basement closet that I was supposed to take with me to the airport. It’s about 3X3X5 feet. It has clothes in it. I remembered the box after I was at the airport struggling to find my ticket.
Of course, this was the dream that woke me this morning. I had already returned to the house once to collect four coats I had left behind, so I couldn’t go back for the box, and I couldn’t find my ticket. It was tough to wake up. I tried to get back to sleep to resolve the issue, but alas, could not. Instead I got up and mowed the lawn before the heat of the day.
Perhaps that was the gift of the harrowing dream? Now I want to go and clean out my closets!