On Friday night, after a long week of nannying and hanging out at the Momastery Facebook page, I went to bed and had a dream that I was Glennon’s nanny. Saturday I woke up and was thinking about the dream and considering whether I would move to Florida for the job. I’d be far from my family, I thought, but the weather would be a welcome change from Boston. I’d have to leave the deep, spiritual symbolism of the changing seasons, but I just might be up for it. Just as I was thinking this, the phone rang. I picked it up and the caller ID read simply, “Florida.”

(What do you think, readers? Was it Glennon? Did she offer me the job, and did I accept? Am I moving to Florida? Well…)

I rarely answer my phone, and even the motivation of the tropics couldn’t quite make me pick up this time. But a few moments later there was a beep to let me know I had voicemail. I pressed play and a man with a deep voice began speaking in a language I mostly did not understand. I did recognize two words, Saalam Alaikum — “Peace be with you” in Arabic. So I played the message to my housemate, Mark, who is Lebanese and grew up in Saudi Arabia. He said it didn’t sound like Arabic to him; maybe Urdu.

A dream, a thought of traveling, a follow-up phone call from the dream-land, a message from a stranger wishing me peace in a foreign tongue. I can only imagine that I am at the beginning of a great adventure. If you don’t hear from me for a while, I will probably be in Florida, or Pakistan, possibly traveling with the Meltons and a mysterious, deep-voiced, dark-skinned man. If you do see me in Boston, looking pale and tired, shivering in the cold, it may not really be me. I may have left behind a doppelgänger to hold my place until I return, if I ever do.