Today is a great day. It is the last day of Tobi. I am doing my second dose earlier than recommended, but I don’t care. I want to be done for this month.

This precious hour is my hour that is on loan every other month. It isn’t bad, it is just nice when I am done.

The benefits of doing treatments, yes there are some and many actually, is you do get to pause every day. You sit back, meditate, or stare off into space. Isn’t that sort of one of the same?

I watch whole series of shows. I write, dream, and think of new projects. I sip on espresso, have a latte, tea, and yes – wine. Why not? I get jazzed for new things to come.

I have a plush set up. I have a huge window, a huge comfy chair that can hold me when my body gets sleepy and sinks in. I have a very sturdy desk holding all my ideas. I have about every electronic device in my reach. My treadmill is behind me, weights, yoga mat. My dogs are always with me in this room.

There is a mental muscle to this though. I am not going to lie. There is an agreement to all of this. I help you; you help me. The exchange of health.

I must tell you my dream. I have told some people already. This is not a meditative dream, but a real dream.

I was in Italy and at a restaurant, almost like on a peninsula of Italy. The restaurant is an open concept, stretching across the entire length of the restaurant. The sun vibrant, reflecting off the ocean. It is almost too bright to look at.

There is a large bar with standing and sitting tables throughout the restaurant. The bar is made of warm wood, think of Tuscany. Warm walnut, beech wood, while the woods become darker as your eye goes from the ceiling to the floor, finally a dark mahogany stretches itself throughout.

I am there for some reason or another with a couple friends. As we approach the restaurant I see a small group of people far in the corner of the bar – and it is Madonna!

She is there with her crew, enjoying this beautiful and expansive view. The breeze carries throughout the entire restaurant, blowing her scarf around her neck.

I decide I am going to go up to her. I mean why not. She is extremely pleasant as we chat just for a couple minutes, and gives me a warm hug. Her entourage then kind of pulls her away.

But then – about 10 minutes go by as I go back to my standing table with my friends, Madonna walks over to me. She tells me she feels a kinship with me – of course she did, this is a dream people.

While looking over her shades, her long flowing blond hair, and long black flowy outfit, she hands me this paper. It is thicker than notebook paper, almost like real layered paper with rough edging. It is square shape. She writes her number and address with a black marker on it and slowly hands it to me looking over the rim of her shades. She is entrusting me with her info.

I am in shock of course. She gives me another warm hug and flows back to her people.

I then look down, and I am so happy, ecstatic! I am wearing my black Madonna sweatshirt from her last tour! In Italy? Who cares – Madonna and I are friends.

So, if you ever can’t get a hold of me – you will know why. Don’t ask questions, I am not permitted to say.

Now, if only I could transfer my photographic memory into another dimension . . . I am working on it.