I have issues ? What issues ?

I've always wanted to write fiction, but lack confidence in my ability to do it. My one notable attempt to write fiction occurred while I was in junior high, probably about 8th or 9th grade. The Untouchables was a popular television series at the time, and I rarely missed an episode. Inspired by the show, I decided to try writing a crime novel. As I recall, my tale of gangsters versus feds eventually reached about fifteen handwritten pages, fountain pen on notebook paper. A few classmates, curious about what I was doing, asked to read what I'd written and one or two told me they thought it was good. High praise indeed from other adolescents, but I eventually became distracted by fresh matters and my novel wound up in the trash.

Since I can't write fiction, I sometimes write about the next best thing -- my dreams. The best dreams, the ones I remember, are similar to good short stories. My favorite dreams are ones where I have superhuman abilities, or there's a beautiful girl who loves me, or I'm reunited with my best friends from college.

Then there are the other dreams, like the one last night. The setting is the bathroom in the house where I lived from roughly 1958 until 1969, only in the dream it's my house. My wife and I are expecting guests: my friends Bill and Ed and their wives. I'm sitting in the bathroom preparing to shower, and I tell my wife to entertain my friends until I have my clothes on. Before I'm in the shower, the bathroom door opens and the wives of Bill and Ed come in to tell me how glad they are to see me. I quickly step into the tub and draw the shower curtain, which is transparent as luck would have it. Jump to an instant later: Bill and Ed come in with a couple of boys who are around 12 years old. The boys are apparently the sons of Bill and Ed, which is peculiar because those two still look the way they did at age twenty or so. All four are wearing dark blue swim trunks. I ask them if they plan to shower wearing their bathing suits.

Now the shower is full: Bill, Ed, the two sons, and I. Just then, the water from the showerhead changes from a spray to a drip. I utter a few of my favorite cusswords and explain that my wife must be running the water in the kitchen sink.

At that moment, I wake up. I check my watch -- it's 5:40 am and I need to pee.

Yesterday, in real life instead of a dream, my wife and I finally traded her 1997 Honda CR-V, which was closing in on 118,000 miles. The Honda was a really reliable vehicle, but I couldn't shake my fear it would eventually break down and need major repairs that would cost more than the car was worth. We bought a neat little Mazda sport hatchback that Mrs. bee had fallen in love with. I was glad to be rid of the Honda, but I also experienced some anxiety over buying another car and taking on all that debt. Maybe the anxiety resulted in a dream about being naked in front of my friends ?