Bad Dreams . . . and I have a lot of them

Last night I dreamed I was on my way to a conference (ChLA), which was being held in a hugely massive hotel.  I got my room and put my luggage and just about everything else there.   I went out with friends with just my purse.  Didn’t even register with the hotel (note the contradiction with a previous sentence).  In the meantime, apparently, the hotel caught on fire and all guess were ejected.  Without their luggage.  I tried to estimate the value of my items but got it wrong.  I was also notified that I could put my luggage claim to the front of the line if I paid for it.  I essentially asked for the luggage claimants to revolt.  That it was all a capitalist conspiracy.  This dream deeply distressed me.  Deeply.  I couldn’t get home.  I only wanted to get home.

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