Try it, it works.
One night in college, I woke up alone in my dorm room, sweaty and shaking from a horrible dream. It was so terrifying that several minutes later, I still couldn’t turn off the light and go back to sleep, so I called my boyfriend, who went to a different college in a different town.
I woke him cold from a dead sleep, and told him I’d had a bad dream. The minute I said it out loud, I realized what a baby I sounded like, but without missing a beat, he cleared his throat and said, “Okay, lie back down. You can leave the light on if you want. Pretend like all the guys in Pavement are hanging out in your dorm room. Don’t let Malkmus too close to the bed. Now pretend like Yo La Tengo is there too. Ira’s just sitting there on your desk, feet on the chair, talking to Kim Deal. Frank Black is there too, but he’s on the other side of the room, reading the book titles off your shelf. Bob Pollard is drinking all of your beers. Thurston Moore is playing 20 Questions with MCA. Beck is chatting up Laura Ballance. Everyone’s just hanging out, chilling. And right by the door, standing guard, is Kim Gordon. And sweetheart, nothing is coming through that door, because nobody wants to fuck with Kim Gordon.”