Ian and I had expensive tickets for a month-long trip to Europe. We had to drive all the way to Seattle to begin our voyage. It was night when we arrived at the airport, and we had made it through all the stages of the pre-boarding obstacle course aside from getting to our terminal when I suddenly realized with a gripping terror that I'd forgotten my passport at home, five hours away. Our flight was due to leave in less than one.
There were supposedly ways around this, but they were convoluted and awkward to say the least. Getting a replacement passport in so short a time meant filling out paperwork and talking on the phone for ages, and then in the end being handed a glass filled with water with papers curled inside that couldn't be read unless they were wet. All of them were hand-written and exceedingly unprofessional looking, and I cast them aside knowing that no one would take them seriously. I tried having my father drive up with my passport, but in the back of my head knew that he was, of course, also five hours away. I tried telling Ian to go without me and I would catch up, or stay home, or wasn't there some way we could talk to the airport about changing our ticket to a later date, and oh, I was so sorry, so sorry.
When I awoke I was deeply relieved to find it was a dream. "A reminder to never forget my passport." So my horror upon falling back asleep to the same harrowing scene was great. Upon waking again: "Ah, just a dream! I'll ALWAYS remember my passport now!" Falling asleep again: SAME SH*T. Waking for the third time: "Jesus, I get it already!!"
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