A Flying Dream

I'm not sure if the dream I had last night counts as a typical flying dream.

First, we were downtown, and we saw a huge sign that said, "Parking for Boystown, Chicago." Apparently it was a shuttle that showed a movie while you rode to Chicago. I don't think I actually got on the bus, but we did check into it. In my dream, we were close enough that it was just out of town parking, not the 5 hours away that it would be in real life.

Then we were planning some sort of presentation for an arriving guest. There were little kids that were going to sing, and I was going to fly in. I was wearing an outfit and had a motor and wings strapped to my back, and I was supposed to land at 3:30 on the dot. I took off from the top of a big building at 3:00, because I didn't know how long it would take me to get there. Instead, I got there in just a few minutes. I didn't use the motor, I just flapped and glided on the currents. But I landed, because I was afraid of running out of gas and crash landing.

Right before I woke up, I was talking to one of the organizers about getting me fueled back up to do it again, but we were concerned about getting me flying back in on time.