Building Self-Esteem

I had a most interesting dream last night. Somehow I had won a bit part in an Elvis movie, but it was a very special bit part--the Elvis character was supposed to receive some very good news which made him so happy, he kissed the girl standing nearest him--which was me. I must have been about 33 years old, because that's how old Elvis--who never paid the least attention to me--looked.

It was a long, complicated dream, mostly having to do with the crew quarters which consisted of a large warehouse-looking building. The interiors were windowless, all done in tile and metal and fluorescent lighting, so clean and spotless I wondered if we were going to eat off the floor. In addition to my bit part in the movie, I was responsible for the props, which were continually being delivered at the back of the building.

Anyway, when it came time to film The Kiss, I was as nervous and fluttery as a hummingbird. The director and star and other people were standing around joking and laughing, and I was standing on my mark. The director yelled "Lights!" and I closed my eyes. Then a pair of skinny arms closed around me, and a really revolting mouth closed over about half of my face. Somehow there I felt the gap of a missing tooth. I stepped back, opened my eyes, and beheld a grinning old geezer in a suit completely covered in rhinestones. He even had glitter in his sparse, fuzzy white hair.

I looked around, and Elvis and the crew were talking and laughing with their backs to me.

"My gosh," I thought, "they sent in the stunt man."
*
Anyhow, I've got to get dressed and go mail a book.