I have a recurring dream that I've been drafted to play on an NBA team. This is a very upsetting dream because I can't really play basketball. I mean, I play pretty much how you'd expect a middle-aged Jewish comedy writer to play. The words clumsy, hesitant, clueless, short and frightened come to mind. During the dream I'm well aware of my grotesque lack of talent. I run up and down the court hoping the ball doesn't come my way, all the while wondering why the coach doesn't take me out. Even me executing an uncontested lay-up or free throw seems like an impossible, or at least unlikely, event. Assuming dreams work as metaphor and I'm not really subconsciously afraid of having to go mano a mano with Kobe or LeBron, the question I find myself asking is, what in my life do I feel fully engaged in and yet completely unqualified for? The answer is simple: intimate relationships. Once again, the words clumsy, hesitant, clueless, short and frightened come to mind. Well, not short... average.
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