My sisters called this morning and woke me up because they were on their way to my house to pick up some bookshelves and other things I'm getting rid of in preparation for the big move. They waited until they were on Rutledge to call, which was actually good because I was in the middle of a dream.
Those of you who know me know I have a thing about hearing other people's dreams and telling other people about my own. My theory is that dreams are only interesting to the people who have them, unless they're premonitions that come true later. So I'm breaking my own rule. The dream their call interrupted: I was in a big hotel (probably in DC) following Barack Obama around because I was working for him in some capacity. We had dinner together and he was charming and funny and I found myself attracted to him (sorry, Michelle...I'm not a husband-coveter in real life). We were talking politics and television and literature over dinner and at some point it became clear that we were sharing a hotel room. I politely explained as much as I would enjoy a tryst with our President, that I'd rather have him use his time wisely - say, on something like public option health insurance. As I waited for him to consider his options, my sisters called and woke me up.
I know this comes from the weeks I've spent trying to find private insurance because my COBRA is up at the end of the month. I hoped a year ago when Obama was elected that there would be a public option for the self- and under-employed by the time my COBRA ran out. After calling more than 30 insurers in the past couple of months and getting quotes, spending more time on the phone and applying to various companies online, I realize that (a) it's not going to be cheap (the least expensive I can find is $400 a month, which is close to what I'm paying for COBRA anyway), and (b) I am unlikely to find an insurer who will cover anything diabetes-related for a period of time (6 months or a year is the best I've found, forever is the worst).
Also, weird that I was attracted to our President because, even though I really like tall men with his build, I find his ears slightly off-putting. And there's the matter of his wife and children. I tend to put men with girlfriends and wives in the same category as my female and gay male friends: totally non-sexual.
The bad news is that Barack was just starting to talk about a public option for health insurance when my cell phone rang and woke me up. I'm wondering if I would have gotten any dream advice or direction. I could use some.
The good news is that my sisters carted away two large bookshelves, a corner shelf, an ottoman, and a large planter, so now I have more space for boxes.