Last night, I dreamt that someone asked me my age. 

In the dream, I couldn’t remember how old I was… I calculated and ran the numbers, hesitated, and ran them again. 

“I’m 36.”

I woke up thinking I was 36.

I walked downstairs, thinking I was 36. I made my coffee, thinking I was 36 (but, the hesitation returned, that seemed awfully young, considering I knew the age of my daughters). Still, I had run the numbers convincingly in my dream. It had to be right. I was 36.

And then I drank my coffee. And I remembered that I am 45.