Rarely do I remember my dreams, but when I do they usually make a big impression.
A few nights ago, I had one of those exhausting dreams that went on and on with no good resolution. You know the type: The school bus is waiting and you can't find your books or shoes. Not really a nightmare, but a frustrating dream that seems to have no end.
This nighttime wandering was one of those.
I was being honored at a very important blogger conference in Italy (no eye rolling, please). I spoke perfect Italian (of course), and had on four inch high heals (obviously this was a dream).
After a long flight, I got to my hotel and opened my bag, only to discover that I had forgotten to pack any clothes or shoes.
In my suitcase were the following items: A variety of towels, a muffler and a mammoth stuffed panda. Standing taller than me, the huge bear sported a red ribbon and a name tag, which read: Herbie, I'm guessing by the name, Herbie was not an Italian bear.
Not sure what to do with Herbie, I called my friend, Krista, who is not a blogger, but had inexplicably made the trip to Italy with me. Krista was staying in the room across the hall and she felt strongly that Herbie should stay in her room. Her reasoning was that it might come across as very odd to other conference attendees if they learned I had a huge stuffed creature in my room.
Good point, Krista.
Yet, when we scanned the hallway to make sure the coast was clear to move Herbie, there were too people milling about. We decided to move Herbie later and settled him comfortably on my king-size bed, where he looked innocent and quite content.
Suddenly, I remembered I had a mandatory conference meeting to attend. Krista came along as my wing gal. The conference was taking place out in the Italian countryside where there were vast vineyards. Naturally, I forgot my map in my room and we ended up walking and walking -- all uphill in four-inch pumps.
There were other conferences taking place and hundreds of people milling about. After what seemed like hours, we found a nice young man who could direct us to the blogging event. Finally, we knew were we were headed, but just then I realized I did not have my purse.
While I headed back to my room to retrieve the purse, Krista was sidelined by a cheese and wine tasting we had stumbled upon. She decided to stay with the wine and cheese people.
Smart move, wing gal.
Left to go it alone, I headed back to the hotel (all up hill again... of course). When I finally reached my room, Herbie was gone and so was all my credit cards and lira (no euros in this dream). I was frantic, of course, but I don't remember any more of this truly weird dream.
What would be the meaning? I'm not sure, but one takeaway might be to never turn your back on a mammoth panda -- especially when you are attending a blogging conference in Italy.