Be careful what you wish for.

In a not-too-long-ago dream, I received notice that I had been selected to compete on the U.S. Olympic Fencing Team.

Except this wasn't the NCAA fencer me of college. This was the me of now.

I was beyond excited. I packed up a small blue backpack and showed up at the Olympics the next day. I wandered through the locker rooms, through the swimmers and gymnasts and weight lifters and runners, and found the fencing staging area. I was relieved to find other fencers from Notre Dame. My team. They were all young, of course — the top athletes in the sport. And they were all geared up in their knickers and jackets. With their masks and weapons bags. And their weapons.

And suddenly, it dawned on me.

I had no protective clothing, no body cord, no shoes, no mask. I had no weapon.

I stood there looking at them all looking at me. I knew what they were thinking:

"Who the hell is this lady? And what was she thinking, showing up here without any gear?"

It was true. There I was, at the Olympics — in the midst of my greatest dream state wish-come-true — and I was completely, utterly, ridiculously unprepared.

When I woke up, it took me all of eight seconds to interpret the message:

When I set intentions and put them out into the Universe, the Universe will give me exactly what I want. It will do its part. But I very well may not be ready for what I get.

My mom always used to tell me, "Be careful what you wish for."

Maybe that's why I've always been a wishy-washy wisher. Maybe it's time to resort back to old habits.

Photo: Notre Dame Fencing