April 22, 2008I’m standing in the dining room of a large well furnished house. In the adjacent kitchen, Hillary Clinton is cooking us a breakfast of two fried eggs. We had considered poaching them, but determined that frying would be quicker and easier.
Hillary seems extremely busy and extremely focused, but not overwhelmed. I offer to stay here at the house with her until after the election.
“That would be fantastic, I could really use the help,” she tells me.
“But I’d have to bring my dog,” I say.
“Absolutely, the more the merrier!” she responds as my beagle appears at my feet.
The room has now morphed into a grand reception hall. Men in suits mill about as a bejeweled blue egg hangs high above us like an enormous and extremely expensive piñata.
A young girl strikes the egg with the handle end of a broom, sending it crashing to the ground. It cracks open revealing white paper bags filled with candy.
Two white men, whom I would describe as red-neck politicians, laugh that there are “no candies for the black children.” Infuriated by their remarks, I tear through the sacks of candy until I triumphantly pull out a small package of Sugar Babies and wave it in their faces .
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So I realize there is potentially racist imagery in this dream, but I think it's really just about my anxiety surrounding the Pennsylvania primary being held today and my fear that Hillary wont get a substantial portion of the black vote.
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