I Had a Dream

I had a dream about Obama the other night.

I know, that almost sounds like a poorly-scripted mashup of historical statements and I don't mean any disrespect to Dr. King.

But, I did. Sunday night I spent the evening watching the "60 Minutes" interview with the Obamas and on my lap rested a handful of recent magazines (Time, Rolling Stone, People) all featuring his charming face on the cover. I'm guessing that it all seeped into my sub-conscious, and created a very active imagination in my sleep.

Before you go thinking I'd be interested in having an extra-marital affair with the President-elect, let me clarify. In my dream, he wasn't married, but he was most definitely the soon-to-be leader of the free world. I don't recall much, as I'm prone to do with dreams no matter how vivid, but it felt pretty real at the time.

I recall being shuttled in and out of back doors under the protection of the U.S. Secret Service, and I was dressed up in ball gowns, pants suits and other fancy outfits that befitted a woman dating the man who was to live at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I remember standing off-stage while he commanded a podium, and receiving him as he exited the spotlight. I remember sitting across from him at a dimly lit restaurant talking for hours. I remember telling my friends, in hushed and excited tones, that I was dating the President-elect.

Maybe I've seen "The American President" one too many times?

When I told Brett about the dream, instead of feeling self-conscious about the state of our relationship, he rather said, "I'm guessing you're not the only woman in America who is dreaming about Obama." He may be right.

But, frankly, I'm content to have him be my President, not my date. However appealing that mega-watt smile, calm persona and sharp intellect may be.