Last night in my dream, Bart and I were in the airport going to go out of state for something. We were in a hurry and we needed to get on the plane.
For some reason, we went into the same bathroom and trying to be helpful, I grabbed his briefcase out of the stall where he was and started carrying it. We got separated in the airport and I tried to call his cell, only to hear it ringing in his briefcase.
I started to panic, realizing we were separated and couldn't find each other.
At the end of the dream, I was on an escalator and accidentally tripped a guy who went summersaulting down the escalator, getting several head injuries along the way. I was worried I had killed him, but wasn't sure that I should take time to find out because I was going to miss my airplane.
I was having terrible concerns about him dying and it being in the paper and everyone wondering if it was me who killed him.
I was glad again to wake up.
Wouldn't Freud have fun with me?
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