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I wish I had a big ol’ dance studio of my very own.

I would dance for hours at a time — all by myself, mind you — to everything from Missy to Tchaikovsky.

Did I mention I don’t really know HOW to dance? Like, at all?

Still, it would be cool, especially when I’d do knee slides across the hardwood floor, and rock my own personal cartwheel, which looks a lot like someone trying to get out of a boat.

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I wish I had my own cooking show, complete with tons of ovens and invisible, silent assistants handing me completed souffles and facilitating apron changes when I sprayed myself with pomegranate blood.

The problem is that I’d become so distracted by the cameras and microphones that I’d catch my sleeve on fire and end up on YouTube with a ruined batch of baklava and a two-foot scar.

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I wish I had a bulky sweater that made me look thin.

Sound like a contradiction? No way.

You’ve seen those Old Spice ads where the wee model girl is traipsing about in some giant fisherman’s knitted thing, acres of legs left bare, while her shirtless sweater-sacrificing Spice Guy slaps a little sex appeal onto his cheeks.

She looks all lithe and lost in the sheer mass of fibres.

I think I could pull it off if I never had to wear pants.

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I wish I had teeth that repelled any sort of green items.

If there is a touch of herb or a swatch of spinach looking to attach to someone’s central incisor, it’s going to find me… even if I don’t eat anything with herbs or spinach in it.

In fact, I think I could drink a glass of water and end up blacking out a tooth Deliverance-style with a head of romaine.

What I really love is how subtle people try to be when they tell you about it: “Oh, you’ve just got a little something right… yep… right there. No, you didn’t get it. Up a little. Oooh, sorry, no. Just the next tooth over… oh, missed it. Do you want a mirror?”

Then, when you get the mirror, you discover that you have so much salad trapped in your dental work that you might as well install a Sneeze-Gard on your upper lip.

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I wish I had a travel mug that actually kept liquids hot. And I don’t mean for a couple hours.

I mean for several days on end.

Then I would only go to Starbucks once a month.