This morning I woke up out of a terrible baby-related anxiety dream. In my dream, I had a newborn, but for some reason I hadn't been able to find it for about a day. (!) Most of the dream was a fruitless search for the baby. I was convinced that the baby might be across the street at MIT in the astronomy building, but when I got there there was a big conference of therapists going on. One of these therapists wanted to know why I was so upset, and when I told her she shouted at me that my children were not her problem. Okay.
Then I spent way too long going up the down escalator in a Christmas store.
Finally back home, I found the baby, dead due to my neglect. At this point Baby Mama woke me up. Apparently I was making unhappy noises.
I don't have time for you problems! I'm a therapist
WTF head? That was uncool.