After years of struggling to make it as an actress in LA, I tore a phone number off of a community board flyer. The slip said “don’t call us, we’ll call you” and as soon as it was in my hand, my cellphone started ringing. I was invited to a white warehouse on the east side of the dusty Los Angeles river, where a skinny man in a faded beret told me that I was perfect. Walking home that night, I found a membership card for the Dream Actors Guild in my purse. Now every night from 10 PM until sunrise (and sometimes in the middle of the day for particularly long naps), I slip into your dreams and I am a pale shadow monster, I am your fourth grade teacher, I am your sense of falling, I am your lover’s whisper and how it tastes like heartbreak. The pay isn’t great - but it beats waiting tables.