Internal support network

Somehow unbeknownst to me, it seems that my neurons are conspiring on a project to demonstrate to my conscious mind how great it is that I'm 40.

As I may have said somewhere in this blog before, a majority of the dreams I remember are nightmares set back in high school. Or, less often, college. Except for senior year of college (which was finally the experience I'd been longing for because by then I'd put myself together intellectually, jettisoned my deadbeat dad, and gathered around me a bunch of really good friends), you couldn't pay me to relive any of those years from 14-21. Or, come to think of it, 12-21. Or maybe even 10-21. Anyway, in these dreams I am Back Then and I must complete an interminable amount of work ahead before I'll be released.

Last night, I dreamed that I was back at Penn with my college freshman roommate, and we were squeezed into a tiny bedroom in a tiny apartment that had a big waste-of-space bathroom, with two other girls. I had to hang out with these people. We were walking down the street in West Philadelphia, which was if possible even less attractive than it was 20 years ago, when suddenly I came upon Madison walking toward me with a group of kids. She was 18 or so, and seemed happy to be there.

But...wait...my brain started screaming...that's...Madison!...how could the time have gone so fast? What? She's in college? That means I can't be in college, oh thank god... But she can't be an adult yet, she's my baby ....AAAAAGHHHHH!

And then the dream dissolved, as they do when one's rational mind takes over. I woke up, tremendously grateful to be right here, where I am, right now.

40. Perfect.