I had a dream last night that blockbuster movies are made of. Swear to God.

All starts with an innocent plane ride with my brother and sister-in-law their most precious 12 week old baby girl and me. (There are other friends and/or family on board too, but no one specific.) We are coming back from a trip from *somewhere* Suddenly attacks occur on the ground. Multiple COUNTRIES. 9/11, 3/11, 7/7 all at the same time. Confusion abounds. We are somewhere overseas trying to get back home to the states. All planes are grounded.

After much deliberation OUR plane decides to take off again DESPITE the grounding, we want to get home. The world is ending. We want to be home. Everyone on board agrees. Hours pass while the pilot decides to get ready for take off. As the time passes, passengers become more concerned that WE will become a target. Shot out of the sky. Irrational perhaps? But the only thing we can now think about. Moments before leaving, my brother, sister-in-law and I look at each other. We are not going to risk it. We want off. The glances say everything and we get up to head off the plane, despite the agreement that we would ALL take off and return home. As my brother is verbally fighting with the guard, his wife and I get off the plane. We somehow assume that the baby is off the plane too…But then we realize she is not. Someone still has her on the plane. And as we try to yell towards my brother to tell him to grab the baby, the guard PUSHES him out of the way, seals the doors…and takes off.

A few moments of the three of us realizing what just happened…we KNOW that either the people on the plane are not to make it…OR we are not. One or the other.

And then I woke up.

Holy hell. Worse dream ever. My family. The ones that mean the *most* to me. Damn.

Damn the news. Damn that John McCain book I am reading during lunch. Damn my crazy brain.