Hot air balloon

I had a dream over the weekend.  I had been selected (SELECTED!!) to pilot a hot air balloon on a mission.  What the mission was, in the manner of dreams, was not clear to me.  What I did know, in my heart, that this was a super important matter – perhaps even of national security.  I had been practicing, working, and I thought I was READY.  READY!!

Do, or do not.  There is no try. 

Then came the box.  An impossibly small box to hold my super important balloon.  But nonetheless, it had been delivered.  I unwrapped it.  This hot air balloon was a do-it-yourself kit.  With instructions written in that poorly translated Chinese to English patois that is unique to things manufactured overseas.  What the HELL!  Why did this amazingly critical mission equipment come like this?!

To boot, this balloon was nothing like the ones I had been working with.  It only had FIVE electrical connections.  FIVE!!  NOT six!!  How does anyone make a balloon fly with only five connectors?  (Again, in the manner peculiar to dreams, it was totally sensical that the balloon was electrically powered.  Never Mind there was no basket for me to sit in.)

My sleeping self was giving voice to my inner questions….was this dream was about piloting a balloon?  (PS I REALLY want to go on a hot air balloon ride.)  Was it about taking care of my marriage, renewing my commitment to my job, being a good mom, running across the Grand Canyon… No matter.  Am I doing a good enough job?  Working hard enough on the right things? Am I ready?  Who the fuck knows.  You can only do what you are able. 

I hope I can make the damn balloon fly with only 5 connections.  It’s really important, and I really want to fly.  Tired of bumping around on the ground.