The other day, after a particularly stressful dream, I twittered "At what age will I stop having dreams about the mean girls from elementary school?" I should have known that my public acknowledgement of those elementary school demons would only serve as a encouragement to my brain bring them front and center -- all week.
The agonizing thing about these dreams? They usually follow the same script. In my mind, I know what to say and do, but I always ended up regressing to a nine-year old. You know, like a dream.
Here's a little powerpoint to show you what I mean...
