Last night, the woman I was dating in my dream, became defensive, accusing me of blaming her for the near-accident that I caused. It had all been my fault. It was not even a consideration that she played any part in my driving error. Look, I’m hard enough to get along with and don’t need to be the target of a woman’s projections, the victim of her baggage, scars caused by another man’s psychosis. I reassured her when she asked if I was going to break up with her, but the truth is, tonight I’m going back to dreaming about Angelina Jolie.