Only In My Dreams

This morning I was tossing back and forth, trying desperately to remember what the people on Table 37 were having. I couldn't get the touch-screen computer to work properly, and the hostess was totally "slamming" my station. I was in a panic. No one seemed to be available to help. Customers were hungry and not at all happy or pleasant. And then...BAM! Phoebe jumped up onto me, squealing for me to wake up and play with her. Phew! Only a dream.

I tell ya, years have gone by since I served people at a restaurant...and not a fancy one where servers leisurely care for two or three tables and have the potential to make a killing in tips. I worked my behind off for an average of three to ten dollars per table (usually more in the three range) and I hustled! Those darn waitressing dreams still creep up on me from time to time. And they seem so real...only the bizarre sub-conscious mind always takes it to a new level, like I am a guest at a wedding or something, and suddenly I am responsible for ten new tables. Sure, no problem...except for the twenty flights of stairs between the kitchen and the banquet room. Crazy dreams. Could have been worse though-you should hear about some of the dreams I had during pregnancy and breastfeeding. Oh boy!