I’m not dreaming…It’s real.

I woke up this morning with a smile on my face.

In my dream, President-elect Obama was coming over to my house. We were having a party and he was invited. I asked him if there was something that I could get him. He said that a beer sounded good. I laughed and said that I was sure that it did. I hurried off to find a cold glass to put it in.

I swear, I’m not making this up.

We sat down at a table together, just the two of us. He said he needed my help. I said that I was flattered and was there for whatever he needed. He said that he needed my help in figuring out what kind of present to give Michelle. He wanted to do something to thank her for all that she had done and put up with and had heard that I was creative–good at coming up with gift ideas. I laughed, played modest, and got out a huge legal pad for brainstorming ideas.

We were coming up with ideas, laughing over our beers, when my alarm went off. I’ve never been so sad and so excited to wake up at the same time.

I was excited to wake up to turn on the morning news. I wanted to continue the excitement that I felt when I fell asleep. It’s a brand new day. A brighter day has come. Hope has arrived and change is in the air.

The dream is alive.

Now I’ll just sit back and wait for Mr. Obama to call and invite me to be apart of his cabinet. Maybe he could use a little of my creativity in the White House.

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