Fingers crossed

I just woke up from a dream that I was in Paris. And it was lovely. So lovely. And I've never been to Paris. Not yet. But it was so real. And I was stressing because I was cooking Thanksgiving dinner. And they don't even celebrate Thanksgiving like that in Paris. But there I was. Worried. About all the raw meat in front of me. And I was never a cook. And I was hosting the evening. There were guests coming from all over. To my place. And that was the best part of the dream. That I had a place. And I was showing people around. And I was away. Away. Away. In Paris.