Last night I dreamt about a school that was a castle on the outside, surrounded by an aqua moat. I climbed three flights of stairs and arrived at the door to a wide, fluorescent lit hallway lined with classrooms.

A group of students and administrators said it was my turn to ‘go’. Go? Go where?

Just before they pushed me out into the exposing light, I realized all I had on was a big pair of blue underwear and a black t-shirt. (A walking bruise? Oh dear.) In addition to not wearing pants, I also wasn’t wearing a mask! (Anyone else having mask anxiety dreams?)

So I ran down the wide, sickly green hallway attempting to cover my nose, mouth and bum with a too short t-shirt. Mortified.

Soon after, I found myself outside the school castle in a plush grass, tree cloaked garden, soaked in Spanish moss, swaddled by the aqua moat.

Deciding I could care less about my lack of appropriate covering, I slipped into the cool, streaming water and floated on my back, staring up at a stone bridge connecting castle-school towers, cutting the earth and sky in two.

The clouds looked like Xanax; grey, soft, muted, enveloping, heavy with repressed precipitation.

From under the water, my ears heard the muted sound of a car. The driver? Glennon Doyle. She’d apparently come to rescue me. Giggling and excited, she opened the passenger door from the driver’s seat. She’d brought me clothes! A dry shirt and pink, velvet pants (which I own in real life). Glennon, I said, I’m wearing giant blue underpants. She burst out laughing. I know! Let’s go!

And off we went to some party where everyone was dancing to music coming from a vintage record player.

I have no idea what this means but I was psyched to be rescued. Dear Glennon, thanks for covering my ass. xo

To the best of my knowledge, this has nothing to do with politics and is purely a concoction of understandable 2020 anxiety mixed with the misunderstood anxiety that has been my roommate since birth. I’m going to sleep soon. Regardless of what happens, let’s try to be kind to each other in the morning.