With tousled hair and smudged glasses, my friend Avocado Roll [AR] drives me to Pearson International Airport. Despite the ungodly hour, she entertains me by recounting her latest anxiety dream. It begins conventionally enough; while at work, AR suddenly realizes that she has forgotten to wear pants. [Aside to British readers:  please replace the word pants with trousers and stop laughing your ‘fannies’ off]. Heading to the mall to cover her shame, AR finds that she has no money. ‘Ah,’ I sagely interject, ‘you resent a job that is at once beneath your intellectual capacity and yet necessary to fund basic needs.’ ‘No wait,’ she says, ‘here is where it gets interesting.’ At this point, Barbara Bush appears, agreeing to take AR shopping  while sternly noting that she will provide a mere $20 for the new clothes. We laugh together in a familiar way that I will soon miss. ‘Do you long for maternal care?’ I inquire. ‘I think not,’ she chortles, Continue reading →