Even in my own dreams, I manage to humiliate myself.
I dreamed that at while at dinner with a friend, I performed Steve Martin’s famous “Excuuuuuse me” routine. My dinner companion kept interupting me to correct my performance, but I plowed through it anyway, ignoring him. Finally, just as I finished, I looked across the table, and realized that my dinner companion was Steve Martin himself.
Our eyes met, he raised one eyebrow and he gave me a stare that said: “now you realize that you’re an idiot, right?”
I think that late-night snacking causes my stomach and brain to collude on the production of confidence-crushing dreams.