Pregnancy is the best when it comes to dreaming. I could probably write a book of dreams that would only be funny to me myself and I, but I'm going to go out on a ledge here and hope that you think this one is funny as well. For some reason, it turned very political, but I will try and leave that part out of it.
So, I'm five months pregnant at this very moment I'm writing this, and let me just tell you a little bit about my sleeping situation. My husband refers to it as my pregnancy throne, but to me, it's so much more. It's my nest. My shelter from the storm. What makes it so special is the pregnancy pillow that nestles me ever so softly as I drift off to dreamland.
That's not me, but she looks really comfortable as well, especially since she's just floating there.
Anyway, I am ever so grateful for my pillow, but no matter what I do in efforts to get relief from my pregnancy insomnia, I just don't sleep deep anymore. It leads to weird dreams and angry mornings.
So, like any dream, it didn't make one bit of sense, so of course, it all started with Michelle Obama. She was there, and apparently was my friend, which is cool I guess. Sometimes in my dreams, I am me, but I'm not me. Does that make sense? I don't know how else to explain it.
There I was or wasn't. I don't know, some version of me was there. I was watching myself like a movie and it was Halloween for some reason. I wasn't married and didn't have children like my life now, but I was single, fit, happy, full of life and energy. I was Wonder Woman. For real, I was Wonder Woman for Halloween. Anyway, I was on a mission from the gods. On a mission to find my Wonder Woman boots. They were something, those boots. Not only because they were impossible to find, but because they didn't look anything like the actual Wonder Woman boots but in fact just like the brown, scuffed, worn out boots that I wear almost every day in real life. So there I was arm and arm with this guy I used to work with. I looked at him and said, "The time has come for me to go find my boots so that we (a whole bunch of random people) can go Trick or Treating." He looked irritated like this was something I should have already done and the whole world was at risk because of it, but I didn't care, so I left to go find my boots. This is where things got real weird with my friend Michelle. I found myself in this warehouse full of, you guessed it, boots. You know the part in the Matrix where they show the field of all of those growing egg baby pod things? Yeah, it was like that, but full of boots. They weren't on shelves, but rather on scaffolding that was really high off the ground, and it was endless. I remember having this feeling like, I've got this because I'm Wonder Woman, but at the same time I was me, so it was a confliction in the feeling of capability. I knew that I, Hillary Hand, couldn't possibly find those boots, but Wonder Woman could. Was I actually Wonder Woman, or just her for Halloween? Don't know. I just was.
I started looking for those stupid boots and got distracted by this woman who appeared to be Michelle Obama. Low and behold it was Michelle Obama, also looking for boots. It's so crazy because I'm really not making this up. This dream was as vivid as real life almost. Michelle was dressed quite alarmingly, and I have an exact account of what it looked like in my brain. It's still there. She was wearing a lavender colored fluffy sweater, the kind that shimmers, with an outline in rhinestones of a kitty face on the front. Then, she had on jeans from the nineties, which might have been in style last month, I don't know. You know, the kind that has the pleats in the front and they are whitewashed with pockets on your lower back instead of on the bum? Yeah those. Then she had a very angular short bob haircut that resembled the wigs that secret agent spies wear to disguise themselves. I almost forgot. She was wearing the most ridiculous loafers you've ever seen. No socks, just loafers with tassels. Something like Tom Selleck would wear.
I remember in my dream having the thought, 'What is she doing here and what is she dressed up as for Halloween? An eleven-year-old homeschooler?' I can say that because I was homeschooled. No judgment, just observations of my past. I ended up starting up a conversation and it went something like this.
"Hey Michelle," because we were already friends, "What are you dressed up as?"
She responded "Oh hey, yeah! I'm poor."
"Yeah, I'm dressed up as a poor person."
What did she mean and how offensive was that!?
"Um, where did you get your outfit?"
"At the ARC."
"OH!" I responded, "I love the ARC." forgetting how wildly inappropriate it was that Michelle Obama was dressed up as a poor person for Halloween.
Then I woke up to my son saying, "hey guys?" Which is what he says every morning, provoking a "hey buddy" right back. Very delicately he says, "I'm hungry, you know that?"
"Okay, I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay" he says. "Can I play video games?"