Last night I dreamed that I was flown to Japan for some preliminary Foreign Service interviews. It was a wonderful adventure in a new place, surrounded by other excited and interesting applicants. One of my meetings was with a pair of hairdressers.
"Honey, the dreadlocks are going to have to go," they said.
"I plan on getting rid of them the instant I hear I've made it into the Foreign Service," I replied.
"Made it in?" say the hairdressers, "This is the Foreign Service. You're in already!"
"No, no," I say, "That's impossible. I didn't even pass the test."
"Honey," they say, "We don't fly people all the way out to Japan for an interview. You're here. This is it."
And that was it.