as I am watching Oprah Behind the Scenes.
I pause the show and dramatically deep sigh.
Coach ignores me. I deep sigh again.
Me: It's not gonna happen, is it? I'm probably not gonna see The Oprah Show.
Coach (shoulder shrug): Doesn't look like it.
Me: There's only like 20 shows left. That's maybe only 2500 seats left to fill.
Coach (lifting my spirits): And how many thousands of people, like you, are trying to get those seats?
Me: Too many... What's going to happen to me? What will I dream for next? Except for my dumb dreams for my stupid children... what dreams will I have left? I'm not going to Bucket List a stupid marathon race, that's for shiz. I guess, I still have Paris. Except, I am probably not going to Paris either. Am I??
Coach (still lifting spirits): Probably not.
Me: So then... THIS is it? (looking around me.)
This is my dreams realized?
Coach (shoulder shrug): Yep. I guess so.
Me: I didn't marry very well, did I?
Me (lots of deep sighing): Are you just waiting to tell me I got Oprah tickets, on our Anniversary? Tell me sooner than later, because I need to shop.
Coach: Ok... but I'm probably not getting you that.
Me: Tickets to Paris then?
Coach: Isn't this the wood anniversary? (giggle) Besides, didn't you want to go BEFORE you turned 40? We have time.
Me: That was my dream. But dreams shatter.
Coach (takes out a calculator): How about before you are 50, instead?
Me: I'll be ugly then. Ugly people can't go to Paris.
Coach: Welp... I don't know what to tell you.
Me: Great pep-talk. Thanks.
Oprah, I have NOT given up all hope.
But I am starting to get very nervous.