A Naked Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

So I had a dream last night that I went back to graduate school.


In the dream, I was heading to one of my favorite classes taught by one of my favorite teachers. I was running late and freaking out about it (punctuality is much more important to Dream Me than it is to Real Me – Real Me would’ve just been like “Meh, I’m late…may as well just head home”), and when I finally found the classroom (you know how you can never find anything in dreams), the door was locked.

I knocked on the door, and my professor came out into the hallway to talk with me about being so late.

At this point, I realized I had forgotten to put clothes on. Like, any clothes at all. Like, bare-ass newborn baby nekkid.

Since this is obviously inappropriate, I tried to cover myself up with my hands, but I have less hands than I do lady-parts so it was a struggle.

So anyway, my professor comes out into the hallway and says,

“I can’t let you come in without clothes on. I already let it slide the first time.”


Apparently, Dream Me has had this problem more than once? And that first time, everyone just “let it slide”? How did Dream Me get to class that way? Did I drive, or take the subway? I can sort of understand being naked on the subway because once you’re on it, you’re pretty much stuck there. But if I drove to class, then couldn’t I have stopped at TJMaxx and bought myself some pants?

These are questions which have no answers.

So back to the dream:

I get really upset that my prof won’t let me into the classroom and I start crying. (What this means about feminism and female sexuality and the human anatomy, I’m not altogether sure.) My professor feels bad for me (I mean, I am Crying While Naked, which we all know is the worst and most humiliating type of crying) and kisses me on the forehead. Now, this seems like a huge invasion of personal space considering my ass is out, and I’m pretty sure Dream Me could sue him and the school for this, but whatever.

The weird thing is, I actually am going back to grad school, and tomorrow I have a meeting with my favorite professor to discuss the logistics.

I’m a little concerned now that this dream was actually a premonition and I’m destined to ride the subway bareback tomorrow. If you could be a doll and shoot me a text in the morning reminding me to cover my hoo-ha before I leave the house, that would be swell.

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