I do not remember the last time I woke from a slumber and could easily recall a dream.

For whatever reason, I was overseas and staying in what felt like a Hostel situation.

My brother was with me and we were vacationing (or away) for several weeks.

I woke at the part when we were just about to leave for the US, and I realized I hadn’t completely packed everything. And weirdly, my flight was in an hour and a half.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I was convinced I’d still be able to make it to the airport, get through security, zoom to the gate with seconds to spare, and still have a plane waiting to let me board.

I remember being viscerally upset because I had to wait until the last minute to pack everything. And it was clear that for me to make the plane, I’d have to leave some stuff behind and ask the dude that we were staying with to send it (nobody wasn’t to pay for that)

or…

chalk it up and take the L. Either way, it felt like another situation where I’d watch something get closer and closer and closer—if not outright forget about it— and not take action until the very last second.

In essence, this dream felt like a cutout of what’s been happening over the last few months and years: my perfection of procrastination.

I know I hate the habit in my self. Perhaps that’s why it was enough to wake me, literally and figuratively.

Sleep or otherwise, the anger I felt was real and familiar.

I don’t think this was a one-off or random, but a wake-up call, If you will.