When I was a server, I would have waitress nightmares (you feel me fellow vest and apron-clad hospitality aficionados?) – “Shoot, I forgot that man’s refill.” “Table 34 – I didn’t drop a main course spoon!” “I promised I’d check on that Anthony Bourdain recommendation and, well, didn’t.” All true stories.

I don’t have many graphic designer nightmares but last night, I had a dream that I was about to teach my Friday night yoga class and it was more crowded than a Shiva Rea class at Wanderlust. I had the normal space to work with and as I tried desperately to convey the benefits and alignment of twists, my voice was drowned out by a lot of leggings, shuffling bare feet, sticky mats and yogis rushing in late to find a non-existent spot.

Half honored and half in despair, I turned to find Sean Penn sitting cross legged in a desk chair mat’s edge. We chatted and I think he was wearing his same outfit from the Oscars.

When I woke up, I was slightly confused at what my mind had just created for my night’s sleep. I usually have vivid dreams of thoughts I have not yet allowed the time and space to fully process. Thoughts, conversations, people, memories – all re-surface if I haven’t thought the thoughts that come with the visual.

I like this aspect of my dreams. It brings to mind what I haven’t yet brought to mind – as if to say, “nuh-uh, Jess, we’re not done here.” I’m not quite sure yet what Sean Penn was doing there and what kind of unfinished business I have with him but fear not, Sean, I’m on it.

Talk about mindfulness and stepping out of the doing and just being with your thoughts. If I don’t, they come along for the REM cycle and no one wants to wake up thinking they left things unsaid with Sean Penn. No one.