Right. I am not on vacation anymore.

I am also not sick anymore, or at least my cough is almost gone, and my lungs aren't so junky.

I dreamed/dreamt that my mom and I met in Heathrow airport to catch a plane to Papua New Guinea. The plane was delayed, or canceled, so the PNG airline booked us two train tickets to Urdu, and then a continuing flight from there to Port Moresby. I was very excited about taking a train to Urdu, and Mom was calm and kept making very funny sarcastic comments.

I think I know how Urdu came to be a place and not a language in my dream. Last week my sisters (Michelle and Sarah) were talking about studying Spanish. Sarah has also studied some Italian and commented on how similar the two languages are. So I told them all about Latin. About an hour later, Michelle made up a story about the island of Latin (actually, an archipelago from the way she described it, although she didn't use that word). In the story, Latin was an island in the sky surrounded by other islands (French, Spanish, Italian, Romanian, etc...).