I woke this morning to Big Band music in my head—Benny Goodman’s Sing, Sing, Sing—and in the fading dream I was cutting the rug with a couple of eight-year-old boys who were break dancing. I found this so humorous that I closed my eyes and stayed there awhile.
I believe that our dreams are messages from the unconscious, but what the heck . . . ? I’d worry about myself if I weren’t having so much fun.
