In the past few days I have had two dreams that seemed to belong in other times in my life. One was about needing to talk with an old boyfriend I hadn’t seen in four years, which would have made it relevant in 2004 or so. (In the dream I said, “Every conversation ended with a question mark.”) In the other I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror in a way that made me think I would look fabulous with really short hair. Thing is, for the past month or so, I have been pretty happy with how my hair looks as it’s growing out.
Some people make turkey sandwiches in the week after Thanksgiving. I have leftover dreams.
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