Not the MLK kind of dream, just your standard, garden-variety nightmare about traveling.
I dreamed that my mom sent me to the Netherlands for a week. The terminal was insanely large and labyrinthine, the staff were all speaking English but it was like Schizopolis — "Nose army. Beef diaper?" "Nomenclature." "Throbbing dust generation!" — and I couldn't get any useful help getting to my gate.
I finally got on the plane, but once we'd landed at the connection point, I didn't switch planes when I was supposed to because all my stuff was strewn all over the area near my seat and I was so busy collecting it that I didn't deplane in time. And I woke up when the plane I was (still) on was headed to...wherever. Not the Netherlands.
Traveling brings out the worst in me. Not the "being in a foreign place" part; I actually really like that part. No, it's the "getting there" part that I just can't do gracefully.
I love road trips, so it's not the journey that I don't like...it's the inability to turn around or slow down if necessary. Being on somebody else's timeline. For that reason, I despise air travel. All that hustle, hope you don't miss your flight(s), hope you didn't forget your various forms of documentation, make your flight and realize that your bathing suit is still sitting on the dining room table, etc.
I'm certain that I had this nightmare because my mom surprised me with a one-week cruise to Alaska for my birthday. It's certainly nothing I would have gotten myself but I'm sure I'll have a good time with her, so it's definitely a good present, but all of a sudden I'm thrown into that renew your passport/clean your camera gear/save up money for touristy things/find pet care/oh shit the bathing suit hubbub again. #gifthorse
Any of you got a good dream you'd like to share?