A nightmare, if you will.
I dreamt, if one dares to call such visions merely part of a dream, that I was a performing understudy for the Broadway musical, Legally Blonde.
Yes, Legally Blonde.
Take it in.
It was the nightmare all performers dread; thrown into a performance without knowing the material. Not only did my dream persona not know the choreography, lyrics, scene & costume changes, or simply melodies, but my real-life persona does not either.
It was horrid. First I got wedged between one of David Rockwell's moving set pieces & the proscenium, thus proving that even in dreams, my belly gets in the way. Then I half-assed my way through that "Is He Gay?" song (or whatever its annoying title really is) after tripping leading man Christian Borle with my ill-fitting costume (the guy I understudied was far svelter than I). Finally, I improvised a dance moment with two purple & pink 8"x10" American flags.
As kooky as Jerry Mitchell's choreography may be, I highly doubt he envisioned a flag wavin' ribbon dancer highlighting the show's emotional arch.
Luckily Sam's 300lb upstairs neighbor found it necessary to clod around his apartment.
Next to grilled cheese, chocolate milk, Noodles & Co., & jerking off*, waking up is the best.
*though not necessarily at the same time