This was one of these short “I don’t know how I got here, but I’ll just go with it” kind of dreams. I fell asleep thinking obsessively that I need to shave my head in the morning. And soon there I was, head shaven, beard trimmed, new glasses, in a suit, distinguishably approaching the podium.
Only after putting all of my papers down I realized I was in the middle of a parliament session on long-term budgeting about to give my thoughts on some key aspects of planned 2020–2025 activities. I looked down on some of my notes, nibbling my lip piercing from the inside of my mouth, like I usually do, when a serious matter is involved.
Before I could start, one of the members of the parliament stood up and yelled: “Could you have EVEN MORE iron on your face?!”.
The Speaker of the Parliament told him to sit down or she would have to dismiss him from the assembly. I recognized that the man was one of the members of the budget working group from the Ministry of Finances.
I cleaned my throat calmly, checked something in my notes, moved the microphone closer to my lips and replied: “I may have lots of holes in my cartilage and skin, dear sir, but I’m still better off than your horrendous plan for diversification of income sources for our country. No piercer would dare to touch that mess”.
I woke up both satisfied and hungry for power. I guess parliamentary dreams do that to you.