Freedom to be me

The other night I dreamed about my retirement party. I'm not sure I really want a retirement party when the time arrives, though I am sure I will celebrate in some way. The thing I like about dreams, however, is that they are often like my wildest imagination on steroids. This one sure was. Actually, it wasn't so much a retirement "party" as a "retirement academy awards," or maybe a "retirement pageant." I was standing at the top of these pyramid steps leading up to the entrance of a building that looked like some sort of art gallery. There was a group playing music (perhaps Raul Malo), and a celebrity host (George Clooney?) announcing people as they arrived, and presenting my retirement award. I had on a beautiful gown, and looked at least twenty years younger with my hair done up, smiling radiantly. I waved at friends, family, and former colleagues as they arrived, and ran down to greet them and escort them up to the party. Everyone was so dazzled by it all, and so happy to see me so happy. It was the most fantastic feeling of complete freedom to be me! I fought waking up that morning and going to work.