I had a dream where Roseanne was bullying me. I don't remember why. She just kept getting in my face and yelling in that grating voice of hers. I kept trying to retreat, slowly shuffling backwards to avoid her spittle and general unpleasantness. Roseanne was persistent. She did not seem to appreciate my attempting to dodge her. She stabbed her thumb into my right cheek as if she were urgently pressing an elevator button. I wasn't sure what the appropriate response was but I knew I had to respond quickly. So I slapped her. With the back of my hand. I backhand slapped Roseanne. She immediately pulled away, shocked, with her mouth agape and her hand pressed to her cheek where I had slapped her. Everyone was horrified. She started walking around, seemingly dazed, loudly proclaiming that I had hit her. Over and over again. She was clearly just playing up her role as victim, trying to get attention and sympathy. It was an act. I thought that everyone would see that. That they would see through her obvious ruse. I was wrong. I spent the rest of the dream trying to convince people that Roseanne was a bad person. No one would listen to me. Everyone hated me.

The next night I had a dream where I ran into Iggy Pop at the airport. He was shirtless and unseasonably tan, predictably clad only in well-worn denim. I think he had some highlights in his hair. I asked if I could take a picture with him and he muttered/growled an affirmative. We took a couple selfies, then he let me playfully boss him around as I directed him in some larger group shots with some of the other passengers. He wasn't in a hurry at all. He had 'approachability.' It was surprising. Part of him seemed to be genuinely enjoying interacting with me and the others. I'm not sure if everyone really knew who he was, but they knew enough to know that such displays of patience and humanity from a celebrity were rare and to be cherished. When I woke up I felt filled with appreciation. I felt full of myself. I thought of how I should best shape the story of my dream to make myself seem the most impressive. I thought of how others would look at me in future retellings of the dream. Their eyes.
    
Last night I had no dreams. When I woke all I could think of was how much Raymond Carver would have loved social media. I reached for my phone.