(Entered in paper journal at 12:15 PM at Starbucks on 30th Street and Park Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was in a huge, darkened gym with a strobe light flashing. At the end of the gym was a small place like a shock. A person lay against the shack, maybe seen in silhouette against a shaft of kitchen-like fluorescent light coming from a swinging door.
A person like JK, one of my Americorps NYC Parks supervisors, "narrated" to me that one of my coworkers, Sekwet (???), was dead, that she had handled a lot of poison in her new job, that it had actually splashed up on her. Now she was alive and was suing for having been injured.
Sekwet had been handling a block of some kind of metal. A boss had told her neither the metal nor the vat of mercury-like metal she had to drop the metal into was toxic. But when she dropped the block into the "mercury" it splashed up on her and she was poisoned. She felt like the boss had misled her because she was black.
Now I felt like I was the boss who had misled Sekwet. I kept trying to hide my shame and actual guilt from "JK," who was with me, not in the gym, but either in a remembered space or in an anticipated space.
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