Monday, Jul. 14, 2003 | 8:42 AM

Last night I dreamed that I jumped out of a window and I fell and fell and fell towards the concrete. It was sunrise and as I fell I thought about how beautiful the world looked and how sorry I would be to leave it, how much I would miss being alive on a morning like this when I wasn�t falling, and instead was maybe reading the New York Times magazine at a table outside a bakery under a little yellow umbrella, eating a croissant and sipping hazelnut coffee.

And then I noticed while falling that instead of gaining momentum the way I was supposed to, I was losing it. So that by the time I got almost to the ground, I was floating rather than falling. A couple feet above pavement, I slowed all the way down, and hovered.

And then I realized that I could not only just hover, I could actually fly. And it wasn�t really like flying, more like swimming through the air. It was the most wonderful realization ever. I swum up and up and up and past the window I had jumped out of, past the tops of buildings and up into the clouds. And then after awhile I got thirsty so I flew down to the ground.

And I went to the bakery and bought myself some coffee. And a croissant. And the New York Times. And I sat outside on a beautiful day. And I enjoyed life.

This dream has to be a good sign, doesn�t it?

�Cause today I feel like I�m falling out of that window and I haven�t lost momentum yet.

I hate waiting.