I dreamt of President Obama last night. A colleague with whom I shared the details interpreted the dream. It's an auspicious sign about synchronicity in my life.
President Obama was visiting a community on a river. Maybe it was the Hudson River. He stopped to talk to me and spontaneously we began to waltz. I wanted to continue the conversation but he had to move on.
My dream was tame compared to that of a woman whom I overheard last week on the subway. She announced to the other passengers that during a dream, President Obama astrally visited her in the Hampton home of a friend. They had an encounter and then he smoked a cigarette. She couldn't stop describing the erotic details and her bodily reactions to him. A woman clad in a fur coat sitting next to the dreamer claimed that Eliot Spitzer was sexier. A third woman joined in the debate, denying that Spitzer had any attractive qualities to appreciate.