So, not last night, but the night before I had a dream.
I had to write it down. I won't use this blog as a dream journal often, because for me to recall a dream is an infrequent occurrence.
The dream starts set on a plane whose captain has just announced that he is about to land. To land, though, the plane must go through a tunnel (much like some roller coaster ride). The captain's fair warning didn't give me enough time to put everything back in my backpack, under my seat in time, so I ended up having in hand my book, phone, and camera.
On the way down, the setting began to slowly change. We were now rolling in a hollow sphere with holes, like the Pirates of the Caribbean scene on the Island of carnivorous natives. I yelled to my Dad, who had been siting next to me on the plane. I told him, I was going to lose hold of my camera. Eventually, I did.
When we ended up at home, I got extremely enraged at losing all of the photographed memories from our trip. I began throwing a tantrum of F bombs, and tears flowed freely.
For some reason my teeth had caps and seals made from circuit boards and other covers that were pealing. I started obsessing over brushing my teeth to take my mind off all of the photos I had lost with my camera and to fix my teeth in the process.
It was a bad dream. If you want to try and interpret it, go ahead, but I have never had a fear of flying or been afraid of the dentist.