So last night I dreamt that I was trying to catch a flight out of a city that looked a lot like Luton, and that I just couldn't get to the airport. I kept walking up and down these streets and going into underground passages to try and get to the airport but I couldn't reach it. And then there was some kind of mass explosion that trapped me and a bunch of kids and mostly everyone died and I still couldn't get to the airport.
Could it possibly be that my subconscious wants a holiday but it is being prevented from taking any time off by how much SHIT there is to DO?
Too bad, so sad, subconscious. You're just going to have to get through it all first.
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