Yesterday I met my ideal man. Unfortunately, I'm currently in a relationship. And secondly, I met my ideal man in a dream. But the dream was so vivid. You know the kind: time seems to move in real time, and all your senses are in overload, crackling with anticipation of certain happiness until the idiot next to you coughs or sneezes or gets up to take a thundering piss in the en suite (or if you are a sad-case single your alarm clock wakes you up to some inane Nova/2dayFM "shockjock"). I usually like myself in my dream state: I'm much more sure of myself and... somewhat happier I suppose. Contented, maybe is a better word. Although I'm sure that's totally normal for people in their dream-states, so I don't know why I'm waxing philosophical about it (although the two pints I had with dinner can't be helping). Anyway, when I did wake up, I was desperate to get back to sleep to meet up with my ideal man. He was younger than I'd thought he'd be--I normally don't take any interest at all in anyone younger than 26--blond (even though I find blonds to be hideously common and plain), and kinda sharp looking. But when I was more awake, and could process what transpired in my dream (which I must say was quite boring. I think we talked on the phone, or had pizza delivered to my house or something), I was hit with a sickening thought: my dream man, I think, looked like ME. I think I'm in love with myself!

So. Do you think I'm a complete narcissist? Or do you think that this was my subconscious trying to tell myself that after years of self-doubt, self-bitchery and self-loathing that I've come to somewhat like myself? Or do you think that I should stay away from the Stella as it has obviously made me much too over-analytical and tiresome?

But I'm telling you, my (dream-self's) dream-self was swoon-worthy.