What's in a week? (A hell-of-a dream!)

Right before my alarm woke me up this morning, I was in the midst of a wonderful dream. I was one person in a sea of many; I was engulfed in excitement, joy, pride, loud and unabashed celebration. It was Inauguration Day, and Barack Obama was about to become the 44th President of the United States. I looked down, and saw I was wearing my favorite jeans. Around me, people were dressed in jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts; on their feet were flip-flops, Converse sneakers, running shoes. Their heads were bare and their faces glowed with anticipation. We were all one massive sea of people, and we were on the Stanford campus. The President-elect, soon to be the President, was expected any second. There was no security to keep anyone back, block any bullets, prevent any miscreant act of violence, because this wasn't the kind of world where that was feasible. I could hardly contain myself; I kept running through my head what I wanted to say to President Obama when he came to speak to me. Should I tell him "Congratulations"? How redundant! Should I say "This is the dawning of a new era"? Absolutely not. How about BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!

FREAKIN CRAP! I can't BELIEVE THIS SHIT! I snooze. I force my mind to go back to the dream. It is gone. GONE! I nearly start crying in my pillow. Sleep, damn it, sleep, it will come back. It doesn't. All I hear is our neighbors Indian music blaring from his alarm clock as he, too, struggles with waking.

I get up. I stand in the doorway, watching M put on his running shoes. How can he go to the gym at a time like this?, I ask myself. Doesn't he know I just got ripped out of a world in which I could speak to the freakin PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?!?! He doesn't. "You look cute," he says. (I look like crap-- hair hasn't been washed in days, it decides this morning to stand up, sideways, defying gravity). "I'm going to the gym!" He is too chipper. Too early, too chipper, too - oh who cares?! I JUST WANT TO GO BACK TO MY DREAM!

Interjection -- I have been having awful dreams for the last few nights; seriously, one involved some sort of farm animal attack in which I was the sad loser). This only made this morning's dream that much more precious.

M leaves; I stumble into the bathroom. I stare into the mirror.

"HOLY CRAP IT'S BEEN A WEEK! A WHOLE WEEK!" The realization hits me like heavy blinds being suddenly drawn, letting in the sunshine.

I suddenly feel proud of myself for subconsciously commemorating Barack Obama's first week in office with my own personal dream. (I also realize I tend to be egotistical in the morning, thinking my dream somehow makes Obama's presidency real, rather than his presidency allowing for my dream to happen).

I dressed up for work this morning. And by dressed up, I mean I wore my nice black pants that I hardly ever wear, and an actual blazer over my little red sweater. I even wore the black heels, and did my hair. I was celebrating a little inside, because contrary to who it looked like I was sleeping next to, I secretly know that I was only moments away from spending some personal time with our President. And when one meets the President, one aught to look one's best!