I was working as a nanny and I had the night off, which was very unusual - in my dream life as in real life I worked many hours at my job. My science experiments do need a lot of babysitting so maybe the distinction between child care and biology research isn't as sharp as one might think.
It was the end of my shift and I was getting set to board the elevator that served as the door to the penthouse - my employer's lifestyle was opulent, to say the least. The door opened and my last long term boyfriend stepped out, pushing a rack of mens' suits. He had just flown in on business from Toronto, and wanted to know if I was free for dinner.
I have not dated men in any serious way since meeting my first girlfriend 15 years ago, so our relationship was literally in different decade. In my dream I was still married but separated from my wife.
We went back to my place to change. I shared a renovated very open floor plan 70s-era two bedroom apartment with my sister, who was in the living room virtual-snowboarding on the X Box when we arrived. We chatted with her while I scoured the hall closet for an outfit. My ex came up behind me, spooning me upright. I leaned into him. Sighed.
I remembered suddenly that we had another roommate. "When is mom due home from work?" I asked my sister. She told me 430. I checked my phone: 438. Not enough time.
I woke up. Looked in urban dictionary for "c-blocked by your dream mom". Found nothing. There *was* an interesting thread trying to decide on a female equivalent for b-balled. No one had proposed the term I heard from a friend in grad school: t-walled. Hilarious.
When I stopped dating men I was 27. I knew virtually nothing about women as erotic partners, aside from the years I had spent in my own body.
As an aside, I find the common* straight male assumption that women have a "home field advantage" in lesbian interactions just a little annoying. It's not that I can't see the value of knowing the terrain; but these same straight men never mention their own hypothetical home field advantage as a plus should they ever suddenly wake up gay one morning.
(*this statement is not based on a blinded, controlled scientific study but on hundreds of datapoints collected from dozens of straight men in too-many-to-count conversations between the ages of 19 and 40.... but if I had ever bothered to track the numbers, I would bet it is at least statistically significant.)
The dream felt curiously healing. I stood for a few minutes in front of the mirror and realized that today I don't hate my body.
It's 824 am. Sunday. Time to go babysit the science experiments. In the afternoon I'll be dancing with one of my favourite leads. His partner is a great lead too. I think I'll wear something nice. Something I might wear to dinner, if I was trying to seduce my ex.
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