I've been thinking about dreams, and the question of, "Do confident people have more confident dreams?" I think the reason we're more insecure in our dreams than in real life is because while we are dreaming, we are literally at our most vulnerable. And even though we are unconscious, we know this. It wouldn't do to be roused by a pack of rabid hyenas with your flight response nowhere to be found because you were having that dream again where you and God are tipping back in cabana chairs over mojitos, with Him saying He couldn't have done that whole "make the universe" thing without you.
I remember the most insecure dream I've ever had: it was in the year 2000. Americans will remember it was the first year that a certain percentage of us received the "long form" census. We'd received the long form, and I was none too pleased about it. So much so that I was tempted to not answer questions that felt impertinent, but too chicken to follow through on that.
I dreamt that my phone rang, and when I answered a polite yet firm male voice told me that according to the census report it was deemed that Jennifer Perlman Sullivan was no longer an interesting person. It was clear this was not the opinion of a few individuals but of a large, governing body. When I woke up I was so distressed that I had to ask LB about it, who assured me I was still interesting: impossible, but interesting.
In fact, I don't think confidence-dreaming is a good idea. My ex used to have dreams about meeting David Lynch for a beer, or getting to ride shot-gun with Al Unser, Jr. Can one be confidently alert? It's hard to say. Over-confidence can make you miss cues. One of my more poignant memories of the end of our marriage is Ex saying to me, in his infrequently-used mother-tongue: All of a sudden y'all are so quiet at me anymore! (You don't have to be from Southern Indiana to understand that sentence, but it helps.)
But back to me and my confidence issues: here's the slip-stitch baby blanket, finally finished and blocked. You know the drill.