This is me trying to capture a particular expression that’s been haunting my face recently; not a good one: a pair of verticle frown lines pressed between my eyebrows as I worry about something or other, not even realizing I’m worrying or frowning. Sometimes accompanied by muttering, too.
An Obama dream this morning: President Obama and his chief of staff come into the room, and President Obama sits on a plushy sofa, relaxed, humourous, but clearly exhausted. An aide holds a cellphone to his ear and he has a brief conversation. He tells us that he’s just been kidnapped and released, but that it wasn’t very serious. I say, “President Obama, are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? There are so many people counting on you, and you really need to get your sleep.” He admits he probably isn’t. I’m worried. He shrinks to baby-size, and I put him into a stroller and go to pick up the other children and their many many friends for a giant playdate.
Wake up. Say to Kevin, “Oh, I was having such a great dream.” It’s early morning, CJ is in bed nursing, and he’s feverish. As I describe the dream to Kevin, he starts to laugh: “If you’re dreaming about sleep WHILE you’re sleeping, maybe you need more sleep.”
Oh, yes I do. Can I have a dose of the kind called Beauty, please?