This was not a pleasant dream; it was tense.  I was somehow conscripted as a sort of temporary nanny help for Obama’s girls.  Malia had a serious dental problem that needed fixing  (I myself am in need of a bridge).  I was not able (allowed?) to take her to dentist, as it turned out,  I made myself at home and fell asleep on the sofa.  Late at night BO asked me if I knew it was nearly midnight.  I didn’t realize I had overstayed!  A former acquaintance bumped into me …

Barack was sitting at a table with Michelle standing beside him. There were others around, aides and such, and he was already sworn in as President. Somebody introduced us, and instead of shaking his hand, I hugged him. Then I stood back and hugged him again. I don’t think I spoke, but he laughed and took my crazy adoration in stride. Then he made me the girls’ and the dream skipped ahead to me standing by a black suburban, picking up Sasha and Malia from school. I even put them …

My fiancee and I went to the White House to an Illinois-only party, which was the only one Barack was attending.  Barack had his Blackberry and I had my new iPhone, so I struck up a conversation with him at a long, rustic wood mess hall table.  Everyone at the party was clicking beer glasses in toasts over the table and Barack put his arm around my waist and leaned in to make a toast, but his hand moved up, unbeknownst to him, so that he was groping me.  I …