I had a dream last night that I was in Pleasantville, dressed in pouffy skirt, high heels, bullet bra and cooking pancakes for breakfast before I mopped the floors, did laundry and ironing, all of course in high heels. BAM! that woke me up, panting, clutching my chest. Thank GOODNESS that was a dream. Or was it? Do I live in some parallel universe where a doppleganger is still hanging out in the 1950s?
