The Wrong Airport and the Pink Ski Outfits

I recall last night I dream [person A] and I, are trying to find the Iberia counter in an airport. It is odd how familiar the terminal is to me in the dream. As the airline representative is concerned about the label on my suitcase, I ensure I wrote my name and spelled it correctly. Without reason, the handler wants to put another tag on. I have no problem with that, but I am in a rush to get on the plane, quickly! I need a pen to write it again.

During the trip, my thoughts pile up in a confusion, for some reason, I thought we were going to France, and I would go to retrieve my credit card. In my mind I try hard, yet unsuccessfully, to fit a quick stop at the bank into our schedule.

As a matter of fact, [person A] and I land in a Mexican airport. I don’t think it is our final destination, even though this place has a similar name. The plane stops in a

cute, tiny, European-style town –not for long. Unfortunately, we are just commuting to our final destination, which is a lot less interesting.

It is also a surprise to see [person B]. Something is happening to [person A] that I don't necessary know. I notice [person B] is trying to help with her business affairs. It is a shame I cannot relate to what's going on, a familiar feeling of mine when I see [person A]. It just bores me. I pay less and less attention, as my focus skips to my own concerns.

I distract my mind with unoriginal thoughts, my carry-on suitcase and what to do for four days in a small boring town, where nothing really happens.

I wonder why [person A]'s suitcase is big, while my small one has enough inside for a month of travel. It's a paradox.

At last I move to a distinctive dream, it's daytime and I'm in a contrasting white luminous landscape, a ski station in the afternoon.

A group of people lined up in bright pink outfits appears. Who could miss that?

I cannot believe my eyes: at the end of the line is [person C], laggard and clumsy but still following the others. I shout her name, and she sees me. Suddenly I evaluate the colour of my light green ski outfit, which exactly contrasts with theirs.

I'm not wearing skis; instead, I slide in my shoes.

A parallel idea hits me repeatedly. A fragment of something external to the plot is my bank account. Out of the blue, I realise that I must have received a transfer from a grant that I'm entitled to, in the dream, and I don't worry.

Who else is there? In the distance I sight [person D]. What a wonderful surprise. I notice he's wearing two single ski boots, and they don't match as a pair. Typical of [person D] I think, slightly different from the norm. Once more I'm wrong, because it fits

the current fashion in ski boots.

I see them going towards the field, precisely to the ski lift. I would love to go, but I don’t have ski equipment, and at this point it is too late to go and rent some. It’s a shame I'm missing the fun. Maybe tomorrow.

Night 050