Last night I dreamt I was Barbie.
Not just a girl named Barbie, an actual plastic Barbie.
I was being chased around in my convertible Barbie corvette, by some evil villainess and her side kick, but every time something significant happened or I lost a shoe (and this was frequent) I had to change outfits.
For some reason, in order to do that, I had to go back into my box and of course every time I tried to come out, my hair was sewn into the cardboard and my hands and feet where wired tight. Somehow, I always managed to pull away from the mess just in time to escape my pursuers, who didn’t seem to care what a hurry I was in to accessorize. So in the process I always left some terribly important item behind like a purse, or shoe, or glove, and the next segment of the chase would have me stressing over its loss until I changed again.
Cupcakes before bed no longer seem like a good idea.