For those of you readers who don't know me personally (all two of you), I have a very vivid and bizarre dream life. For example, last night I had a dream that Madonna (the material girl, not the virgin) was my house guest. I hadn't been expecting her, so my house was in pretty pathetic shape. For some reason, I wasn't worried about this. I think I was in shock that Madonna showed up in the first place. It started to sink in at breakfast the next morning how ill-prepared I was. I offered her bacon (as if!), and she politely declined. I offered her eggs, she politely declined. I offered her pancakes, she politely declined. Then I started wracking my brain about what the heck her crazy macrobiotic diet was all about. Fail. Then I followed her back to the guestroom, where I started to notice how utterly dirty and cluttered the place was. Madonna hadn't said anything the first night, so I told myself it wasn't as bad as it looked. Then she started telling me in a very positive life-affirming way that cleaning things up would make me feel better. So while she took a shower, I picked up. And it looked better. And I felt better. The end.
When Madonna is entering my dreams to lecture me on keeping a clean house, perhaps it's time to step up my game.