Can't sleep at night…
by RT
I had the weirdest dream last night.
I was scheduled to interview Barack Obama. How this happened, I have no idea.
To make a long story short, the interview was supposed to be at 7:30. I was sitting with Michelle Obama on the sofa outside of his office waiting on him. His staffers were running around like crazy.
When the time for the interview came, Obama walked out of his office to the sofa. I stood up to greet him and he said, “I’m going to have to reschedule. I’m coming down with a bad cold or something. How about tomorrow? Have my secretary make space for you because I need to talk to you.”
He walked out with a group of folks. One of the staffers that was left in the office came over to me and said, “And when you talk to him, please tell him that he’s losing too much weight. He’s lost eight pounds already (I specifically remember the pounds for some reason). Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Listen to me? Huh?
The only other thing I remember is that his secretary’s last name was “Don” and that her phone number wasn’t like the normal phone numbers. It was like those phone numbers from back in the 40s and 50s, the ones with only five numbers. Something like “Don 47245.”
And I couldn’t find a decent business card to give to her. The first one I pulled out was wet. The second one was ripped. The third one was burned on the side. So I pulled out some tissue, wrote my number down on it and gave it to her.
Now granted, this dream probably isn’t some sign or anything. Rather, perhaps it’s sort of a subliminal amalgamation of an idea I’ve had in my mind for well over two years but haven’t moved on. It’s the type of idea that makes me tear up with passion when it raises its head from time-to-time (which happened again a few days ago).
I’ve spoken about this to perhaps five people. One was extremely positive, with a caveat; two were positive, but said they wouldn’t have time to help; a few didn’t really respond at all, just said “Oh that’s interesting” (wait…that’s more than five); and one said that I was totally off base and stated (although lovingly) that what I wanted to do required certain experts (which is true in a sense).
In any case, this Obama dream made me wake up at 5:30. And the idea came again.
And with that, I leave you with Shug:
For a minute, I thought you were going to share your idea with everyone in this blog
but it’s still gestating, it seems.
I just have to say, when an idea is held this passionately there is no stopping it. You need experts? You can find them.
If you can dream it, you can do it.
That’s funny, I also dreamed recently that I was talking to Obama. He told me that his real middle name was Lipriducious or Lipridocious. Or something like that – I can’t remember exactly. It’s similar to the name of a new medicine I’m taking, that I can never remember the full name of.
My dreams are often just crazy mash-ups of several things that happened to me during the previous day. I do think that Obama is too thin, though! If you ever do get to interview him, take sandwiches and chocolate!
Do it. What has to happen to make it so?
@Shirley: Yep. It’s still baking.
@Karen: I’ll stuff a couple of steaks down his throat.:-)
@Kyla: It would take a lot. A whole lot.