Out of nowhere, last night I dreamt that I was in a relationship with Anna Kendrick. She was not in the dream. My subconscious is not that kind. No, my entire dream was a lengthy simulation of how I would react to being hounded by paparazzi and vivisected on social media. It turns out I was not a fan. I warred with the world, punching photographers and publicly lashing out at those abusing me for my unworthiness. My meltdown was of Michael Richards/Mel Gibson proportions. I became an international punchline. When I awoke, my thoughts were two:
- Who dreams about dating Anna Kendrick but excludes her from the dream? Just...who?
- Yeah, that was accurate.