It’s no secret I hate to fly.

I have flying nightmares every now and then, just because my brain likes to remind itself that flying TERRIFIES ME.

Last night, I dreamed that Sister was flying me around in a Cessna, only she was a really bad pilot.  She had us up really high and then got lost because she couldn’t read the instruments, so we were trying to look for familiar landmarks on the ground so we’d know where to land.

Finally, I saw Iowa so I was like, Um, there’s Iowa so you can go down now; we’re no longer lost.

So Sister NOSEDIVES the plane because I guess that seemed like the smartest thing for her to do at the time.  ”This is not how Dad would do it,” I screamed at her.

The cabin loses pressure and no oxygen masks come down from the ceiling, I guess because it’s an itty bitty Cessna.  And I’m screaming, STOP, STOP, PULL UP!  DON’T CRASH US!, when all of a sudden, things start getting really swirly and the blood starts pounding in my ears, and I hear the buzzing of the locusts that are a signal to me that I’m about to pass out.

I figure passing out is better than being awake while I die because Sister is trying to crash land us into Iowa, so I let myself pass out.

Then I wake up from my dream, my ears still pounding and gasping for breath.  The clock reads 3:25, and I realize that I was so terrified of Sister’s plane-flying skills in my dream, that I passed out IN MY SLEEP.  I didn’t even know this was possible.  I must have been holding my breath in my dream as the plane nose-dived toward the earth or something, because I felt absolutely terrible between the gasping to catch my breath and the horrid swirling in my head that I experience after a good passing-out.

Anyway, I told Joey this morning that I passed out in my nightmare, and he said it was weird and so was I, and he gave me very little sympathy.  He also laughed really hard.

I guess it is kind of funny, isn’t it?