I had another crazy dream this weekend. This time I had been drafted into the war circa 1940. They wanted me to be a pilot and had a flight path around some islands in the middle of the war zone. To fly the plane you had to have a string (mine was fuzzy and glittery yarn) hooked correctly through the gears similar to what you’d find on a sewing machine. Guiding the plane was as simple as pulling up the blinds, pull to one side and you flew that way, pull the other way and you changed direction.
They sent me off on my first mission without teaching me how to land. At all. And I was expected to land on water. I survived.
If I ever join the military, I’m definitely going into the Air Force, I’ve already got some practice.