Right on schedule (3 AM in the morning), I had this dream:

I was away in another city at a conference, feeling really lonely and adventurous in the way that one feels away from home. A Hispanic woman had adopted me, and decided that we were going to have sex. She wasn’t really pushy about it – it was just, you know, “Why not?”

So we go back to my hotel and get into the elevator. She pushes the button to the sixth floor, and we rise and rise and rise and rise. The floor indicator was on ‘6’, but we just kept on going for the longest time. Finally, the doors open and we step out into heaven.

There was an pleasant blonde at a folding table, the kind set up for conference receptions. She was dressed all in white – obviously the angel receptionist. I stepped forward and my companion just faded into the background.

The feeling of loneliness intensified, and I found myself laying my head down on the table. “Why haven’t you found me anybody? I’m so tired of being alone.” This went on for ten seconds.

Then I stepped outside of the dream. Taking stock of the women that were organizing it, I clarified for them:

I am not a supplicant in this place.

This life is unfolding just as I intend it.

I am the carrot.

You ladies need to do better for me.