Last night, I dreamt I had four breasts, and that I was trying to hide this fact from my sister. I have no idea how that was supposed to work, but there I was, running around topless, and absolutely convinced that once I got everything crammed in and shaken down, no one could possibly notice a couple extra C-cups.

And naturally–being a woman’s dream, and not a man’s–absolutely nothing was where it was supposed to be. Lopsided. A little funny looking. And not one of the four matched any of the others. (Clearly something to be addressed with petals, underwires, and the occasional flying buttress.) But really, with the right bra, No one is going to notice.

I never got as far as figuring out exactly how that was supposed to happen.

Nope. The dream got cut off while I was running around trying to collect the extra keys to the bathroom, so that no one could get in and see. It was one of those semi-public, my sister had accomplices in getting in, and yet, totally recognizable as my own, current bathroom bathrooms.

Morning comes awfully early around here. I usually just see the beginnings of dreams. I don’t sleep long enough to see the ends.