…I was hopeful for so many wonderful things. I was hopeful my eyebrows wouldn’t grow over my forehead, because then I would have to shave or pluck my forehead. You may be interested to know, I do not hope to shave my forehead. I was hopeful someday my cat would turn into a tiger and I could ride him like a pony. I hoped for aliens to visit, but they would be small, pocket-sized in fact, and I could cary them around with me and ask them for advice, tell them jokes, or just talk to them like tiny therapists. And as we walked around I hoped we’d have theme music that everyone could here, that would adjust to whatever mission we were on. It would be country rockabilly on a hot day as we rode my tiger-cat to the grocery store, then banda for our trips to the local taqueria, then obscure funk for our Friday nights after work. I also hoped everyone else could have their own theme music as they passed by so we could know more about them. Then I thought about my now tiger-sized cat trying to eat the alien and what theme music would go to that and things got complicated, so I hoped for something simpler…perhaps just being able to sleep through the night would do. And it did.