I had a dream that I was asked to model at an event.
I maybe could have been molded into model material, say, 22 years ago or so, but in both the conscious and unconsciousness realm I am 38 years old and have aged about ten years in the past five. Dream self is very aware of this, but I jet off to *DREAM LOCATION* with a gorgeous dream friend wearing perfect red lipstick.
Several other stunning women with the same shade of red lipstick deplane at the same time. “Oh, they must be models, too.” They are.
We get to where we’re supposed to check in, and I’m feeling a little itchy. Certainly there was some mistake?
“Ah, yes,” says the woman sitting at the table. “We need YOU to talk on the radio.”
“That makes sense.”