I wasn't going to blog this...

but now I realize that I have blogged numerous more embarrassing things.

The night before last I dreamt I was pregnant. Not huge but well on my way. (Note to people who don't know me: I don't plan on having babies. Like an SUV, I like them but I don't want one.) And I was trying to hide this pregnancy from my family. (Note: my family who would be thrilled if I would get knocked up. THRILLED.) My strategy: yoga pants. Dream Quiana is not only fat, but also not terribly bright.
I was attending law school, in yoga pants, whilst pregnant. Now Kim, you will be glad to know that you too were in law school and you were assisting me in some manner in hiding my bulging belly and looking for a bathroom in what was a library, but turned into a party in a sort of split level house. A house with a ladder to the rumpus room. After climbing down said ladder all we could find was a mammoth bathroom which seemingly had no stalls, but rather pots all along the walls. However, due to my mercilessly squished bladder, I was forced to wobble unsteadily down and pee in front of younger drunken student types.

Now, I tell this to my lunch club at work (the people I don't hate) and they tell me that when you dream you are pregnant it means that you are searching for a creative outlet. Said I, "I think that it meant that I really needed to take a piss." I am a class act.

Later that night I get a phone call from my collegiate best friend Megan who, as it turns out, also dreamt about being pregnant; something that her boyfriend was not too thrilled about. I would love to search for greater meaning, but unless we are having some kind of psychic Bryn Mawr moment, I don't get it.

Is this like some cheap romantic comedy where a stern business lady suddenly hears the tick-tock of her biological clock and finds seemingly unsuitable love? BLECH!