My Subconscious is Broken

Or, at the very least, has let me down.

The other night I had a dream about this man:

This is #12 of the Green Bay Packers.  Aaron Rodgers -- Quarterback, Superbowl XLV MVP, NFL 2011 MVP.  He is what I would define as a 'Cougar Snack' for those of us of a certain age.  And not just because he's handsome.  He's also very smart, articulate, and humble.  On top of it -- he's kind to children and animals.  He's the whole package.

In fact, he's on my 'Freebie List' with Mr. Man.  Mr. Man is in no way threatened by this.  He's smart enough to not say, "Well, you wouldn't have a chance."  He also knows that all I would want to do is make #12 Mac'n'Cheese and just watch how many bowls he could eat.  That's not even a euphemism for something kinky.  It's honest to goodness boiling of pasta and covering it with cheese.  Think about how many calories this guy must expend on the football field!  He must be able to pack it away!

My unconventional view of what I would do should I actually meet my "crush" is also fueled by two important factors:



1.  Public Safety:  I have been at a couple of football parties when the ladies have started talking about Mr. Rodgers' assets.  It turns heated pretty fast as middle aged women in football jerseys stand up and declare, "He's mine!"  I've stepped in and asserted, "He belongs to all of us!  We all love him equally.  He loves us all equally."  His dedicating himself to one woman would surely result in thousands of broken hearts and fist fights all over the Upper Midwest.

2.  His focus needs to be football:  As much as I adore him, I adore a winning record for the Packers even more.  A good friend of mine from Texas who is a dedicated Cowboy's fan was beside herself during the years their quarterback, Tony Romo, dated Jessica Simpson.  In her mind, Jessica ruined his game.  I agreed. We don't want that to happen to Aaron.  He can get married and have children as soon as he retires (at age 44).

To my dream...  Mr. Man and I were hanging out in the bleachers at Lambeau Field after the game.  For some reason, there were two younger, hot women hanging with us.  I have no idea what that was about.  Aaron came around the corner after his press conference and smiled at me, "Hey darlin'."  I turned to him and planted a hand on my hip, "Don't be darlin' me.  Why didn't you call last week when I won the Gubernatorial Election?!" [not sure why my subconscious thinks I should run for office, but whatever]

Aaron and Mr. Man exchanged looks.  Mr. Man shrugged and gave him a look like, "You're on your own, man."  Aaron was apologetic and offered to take me home.  I begrudgingly agreed.  Again, Mr. Man wasn't even phased.  We held hands as we walked out to his very large pickup truck.  He made sure I took a hit off my asthma inhaler before I tried climbing into the truck -- I'm not a woman of tall stature.  Then he drove me home (and it wasn't the Governor's mansion), helped me out of the truck, then he went to his home.

I know you're thinking, "That was not a good dream."  That is my point!  It was not a good dream!  Even though my waking thoughts of him are not salacious, one would think that my subconscious would let loose a little bit...  Seriously?  All my subconscious let me do was to get to first base?  It's not like I'm inhibited or anything.

Therefore my theory that my subconscious is broken.  Is there a pill for that?