Last night I dreamed that my husband took me to a French island off the coast of Normandy (and no, it was not England). It was warm and beautiful and everyone had cocktails with umbrellas in them. We had to buy stamps so I confidently marched up to the post office desk (cocktail in hand) and requested stamps fearlessly and fluently.
"C'est possible que j'ai le postage?" (translated roughly from retard French..It is possible that I have the postage?) I said alluuuuuuuringly...all the right words magically spilling from my suddenly fluent tongue. And in the glorious world of my dream where I am fluent in French and tropical islands exist off the coast of Normandy, the jovial postal worker replied "OUI! BIEN SUR!" and proceeded to jump across the desk to give me a hug along with my stamps. My husband immediately did the old school/over-exaggerated movie laugh and was so impressed with me that for the rest of the dream he spoke to me only in French. I didn't have the heart to tell him in my dream that the "magical fluency" apparently did not extend to actually understanding French. So we walked along the beach hand in hand, sipping cocktails and marveling at the waves as I listened to the music of his French sending me even further into dreamland.
It was nice for just a moment to drop the panic of moving to Paris and let the joy in. If only for a moment in my dream.
Today I woke up smiling.
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