This is what happens after you turn 30

I had a weird dream last night. I dreamt I was in Jr. High again but as my 32-year-old self. No one seemed to notice. The building was beautiful and old and full of dark wood, so I knew it was nothing like the seventies-tastic Jr. High experience I had the first go round where we jogged the mile to strains of Rod Stewart's "If you want my body and you think I'm sexy...." Oh, yeah, that was real. The old stately building? Definitely a dream.

I was sitting at my desk, presumably in a math class of some sort, because I felt decidedly uncomfortable, twirling my pencil and trying to figure out how all this happened. Had I really never graduated from High School? I swore I remembered going to college, both times. Then the teacher, who looked suspiciously like the head of marketing from my old job, asked me; "So Amy, how do you like Jr. High so far?". I stood up and said, "well, the second time around is a little weird, but I have something important to say to all of you boys in the class - keep it in your pants". Then I sat down. Then I woke up. It may have been a dream, but it's still wise words to live by in Jr. High.