In my dream I was in a band, of the sort with lots of members (ten or fifteen or so) crowded on the stage. I was one of three singers, but when we first arrived up at the venue, a lounge in an extremely trendy seaside hotel, it was just me and singer #2. We introduced ourselves and sat down onstage to read some of our fan mail, which had been presented to us in a large crate. Most of it turned out to be from French schoolchildren who had been instructed to write to us to practice their English, which disappointed me, but nonetheless I felt cool and bathed in the adoration of the public.

Unfortunately, when the rest of the band arrived, it became apparent that singer #3 was in an extreme sulk because she thought the audience weren't paying enough attention to us. Before singer #2 and I were ready she started up the instrumental section at a weirdly low volume, and after three minutes or so shouted "That was 'Indigo' [for such was the name of one of our songs]. You missed it" into the crowd. I insisted on her starting the song again, but since I didn't really know the lyrics, I wasn't at my best.

Fortunately, singer #2 saved the day: she rushed offstage and got a portable microphone from somewhere, and then waved at all of us to join her in dancing around with the audience. I started to figure out the lyrics, and soon I was enjoying myself. In the dream my voice was only as good as it is now, but I was also able to make a very high falsetto-like sound, which was my trademark as a singer and inspired much admiration.

Having woken up, I am off to the nearest outlet mall for the day, where Sarah and Emma and I are going to pretend to be fifteen and go around drinking enormous Diet Cokes.