What a nice dream. In the room with both my old cats, both dead since a few years ago but inside the dream I had no memory of that. Madame George, the younger one, named by Sam Larkin after Van Morrison, started to throw up. I helped her relax and finish vomiting which came out like water. I tried to keep her from stepping in it while I cleaned up using paper towels, then pretended to scare them by opening and closing my hands resembling people at a distance showing number ten. Both playfully tried to fight back. I was careful to not get scratched by Mister Bean, the older one but knew he was too old to get a meaningful swipe. I woke up and laughed realizing they died long ago and I just played with them again. Sort of amazing to not have dreams of being scared or being paranoid or freaked out but just get a free visit of love. A man in my class told us all about his panic dreams over performing in class and how he is immobilized with fear about these upcoming performances. People tried offering him various solutions but I can tell he isn’t buying any of it. He might quit the class over his fear of stagefright. I like the way Rick Danko sung that Stagefright song and I bet he also identified with it, in terms of the trajectory almost all of us move through from first times before an audience to familiarity.