I rummaged through my closet this morning, from one end to the other and back again. Where was that charcoal gray long-sleeved sweater, the one that would work nicely with black leggings and boots on this extra cold day? It can’t be lost in the small closet, which is just 5.5 feet long by 2 feet deep. I wanted the sweater because it had ass coverage; I’m not walking around in snug leggings with a short top, no siree! It’s not that I have so many clothes (and definitely not winter clothes which are my least favored), that I typically can’t find things or don’t know what I own. Sometimes I might lose track only because I bought something off-season and it hadn’t yet entered the rotation and/or I might have stored it away.
As I dug around, a thought began to creep into my consciousness… had I dreamt up this sweater?? I mean literally dreaming as in zzz’s and honk-shoo? This, sadly, has happened to me before, where I dreamed about an article of clothing, naturally something fabulous that made me happy, but almost on waking, realized there was no such item. Now here I was in the closet trying to find my lovely sweater. I could see it in my mind’s eye!
I did not find it. And all day I could not shake off the idea of its existence. I’m simply not sure if it was in a dream or it really is here somewhere, snickering at me.