Last night I dreamt I was carrying this huge soft duffle bag with all the fixings for a holiday dinner sliding around inside. I am talking several roasted turkeys, a pig carcass, platters of cranberry sauce, and plates of china. For a while my father-in-law and I were in a car driving curvy wet roads, but then, when the roads got too flooded and I saw cars jack knifed on the sides, we continued traveling on foot. The bag was heavy and my feet were underwater. My father-in-law kept loosing his watch and I had to pause to find it and re-strap it on his wrist. I crossed huge bridges without railings and worked at not slipping into the oncoming traffic lanes. Once at a terminal I had to tread carefully up a small waterfall, push my father-in-law up ahead of me and place the suitcase on a conveyer belt for an Xray machine. At that point I was cut off by a pack of asian tourists. And I watched my father-in-law, up ahead, sail through the lines and never look back. The fate of the holiday rested on my shoulder strap.