I Have a Dream

There is nothing worse than waking up in the morning in a total panic.

It happens to me a lot--I start out every new day with a feeling of dread. It's a pretty awful way to enter into the world after a night of sleep. It doesn't matter if I've had an amazing night prior, or if I am about to do something really fun...the anxiety persists. Thankfully, I can shake it pretty quickly, once I'm awake and realize what's going on.

But lately, I've been having the most annoying dreams.

I don't recall what happens in them generally. There's usually some sort of embarrassing situation, or my boyfriend is being really mean to me in front of people {would never happen in real life} or my mother is annoying the fuck out of me {would totally happen in real life}. It's never anything life-changing but I inevitably wake up in the foulest of moods and need to spend a few minutes each morning doing yoga breaths. So ridiculous.

This morning, I had a dream that I was at a dinner party. The dessert was on the table, cupcakes that had been made by the host and I offered to frost them...since I took pastry classes once and know how to properly frost things {the pastry class thing is true, but I never actually mastered the art of frosting, and quite frankly, when I try to frost my own cupcakes it usually ends up looking like a 5-year old took a bunch of finger paints, mixed it with papier mache, and voila, frosted cupcakes.}

I prepared the cupcakes and laid them out on the table--and then the next door neighbor, a kind of douchey guy wearing glasses, walked in. He took one look at the cupcakes and started critiquing the job I had done, showing the entire dinner party how much better it could have been had I done it some other way, which he demonstrated.

"What, did you study at the Bayard School?" I joked. I guess, in my dream, the Bayard School would be a fancy pastry school or something...not quite sure...but it got a few laughs from the dinner guests...so then throughout the dream I became the dipshit who kept making the same joke over and over...like a really sad version of George Costanza.

Everything he said, I'd say "Oh, did you learn that at the Bayard School?" The laughter started to trickle, until it stopped completely. So then I tried another tactic. I changed it to "Oh, do you work at Tisserie?" {a pastry shop at Union Square}.

Then I realized I'd gone too far, and the conversation had moved on, and no one was listening to me anymore, and I was, indeed, the biggest fuckwad at the party.

I have GOT to stop eating pizza right before bed!