True Confessions of an ex-English Major

Okay, this is completely off-topic for this blog, and my apologies if it strikes anyone as inappropriate.  I just wanted to share a weird dream I had last night …

In it, I'm in an apartment in DC (I've never lived there, ever) and I'm with Barack Obama.  He's wearing only a towel.  Those pecs!  Wow.  I'm, uh, similarly clad.  Ahem.  (Blushes).  He languidly hands me a thick sheaf of papers; the typed pages are laced with penciled-in notes. 

I realize it's a draft of his inauguration speech. Gasp!  Moi?

He nods.

The imminent leader of the free world looks at me with those brown doe-eyes and says, "Look this over and let me know what you think, would you?"

I lounge.  I sift through pages.  I gaze into the face of hope and change and say, fumbling for the right word, "It's so … so … scholarly." 

He beams. 

I wake up. 

O.M.G.   I'm still panting.  Somebody pass me a chocolate before I faint.

Happy Inauguration Day tomorrow, everyone.

–Anne Levy, editor