Last night, I dreamt that I had written two plays. They were both being performed in my living room. A large group of friends and family were gathered on the couch and sitting on the floor, watching as actors delivered lines that I had written. Of course, I had written good roles for myself in both of the plays.
In the dream, the first play was being performed. I was standing in the back of the living room, waiting to make my entrance. As I waited, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t remember anything about the second play. I started to look around the room, searching for a copy of the second play that I could refresh my memory. Not only could I not find one but I got so upset searching that I forgot my lines for the first play. No longer sure of when I was supposed to make my entrance, I decided to go ahead and walk up to the front of living room, where the play was being performed.
The two actors who had been delivering their lines looked shocked to see me and immediately stopped speaking. They stared at me. I stared at them, with no idea what to say.
“Uhmmm….” I said.
One of actors rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” I snapped, “You wouldn’t have anything to say if it wasn’t for me!”
I glanced over my shoulder back at the audience. I saw my high school theater teacher sighing and sadly shaking her head.
And then I woke up.