I had a dream the other day that I was in an airport and it was under a pretty elaborate terrorist siege. Everyone was scattered around and many people were dying, total chaos for about an hour. I was looking around for who was leading the survivors and nobody was, but there was a megaphone on a chair. I picked it up and screamed through the fire, broken glass, and huddled, crying groups for everyone to form two lines and we'd be moving together to a safer part of the building.
I woke up right after that, and realized I was not in an airport full of death and destruction, I was in my house, woke up a little late, and its time to go to work. I wish I could say I felt relieved at my safety, but instead I was hit with the feeling of being somewhat useless.
Its hard to have a personality whose strong points are only any good in moments of extreme crisis and desperation, where you may not be a good option, but you are the only one willing. Probably not a healthy way to be, but alas; here I am.