(Entered in paper journal at 6:25 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was "at work." I had either just come from some other meeting or was just getting into work. I walked down a hallway and saw a group of my co-workers all huddled in a glass alcove before a conference room. I realized that a special meeting was probably being held. I huddled into the glass alcove as well.
I poked my head into the conference room through the half-open glass door. The room was wide but short. The walls were kind of orange and pale tan. The light was bland fluorescent. The furniture was like on a trading floor. People "attending the meeting" were all milling around as if doing some busy work. Some guy near the center of room instead of at the front, stood near a projector screen and was talking about a series of slides.
At first I thought this meeting was going to be about our jobs. But now I thought the meeting was just about some legislation news that would be related to us through our Washington correspondent, EH. The person presenting, who looked like the head of my department, MR, except without MR's usual power of presence, forgot some statistic. My co-worker DE called the statistic out from behind me. The presenter gratefully repeated the statistic and continued his presentation.
Showing posts with label boss MR. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boss MR. Show all posts
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
(2/1/09) who'll get fired?; the shooting game; a new religion
(Entered in paper journal at 8:22 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I walked through an office hallway. The hallway was narrow, with harsh, white, fluorescent light, grey carpet, and greyish walls. It was like a maze, or it was like this hallway would break off into other maze-like hallways.
I came to a small room, like a pantry, to my right. The head of my department, MR, stood before a tight circle of people, mostly low-level workers like me. He was talking about planning something out, like who would still be working here. He asked the people around him not to say anything.
I was now in a big, warm swimming pool in a room with warm, tan tiling on the walls and floor. The water in the pool was clear and green with depth. I swam before a weird "computer," like an old television with wires connecting in tangles to a rough set of units below it.
My old boss BS swam somewhere behind me and to my left. He said, "Well, I wonder who it's going to be who stays. Well, anyway, it's gonna happen soon." BS stepped out of the pool and told me he'd see me later.
Dream #2
I was in a big room like a mix between a studio and an inner courtyard. The room probably had black walls and columns, like a small theater, and probably had a big window showing blue sky out front. There were a few people with me.
One person and I were having something like a gunfight. We were both climbing up and down aluminum ladders, possibly trying to get up to a balcony level. The man shot me in my ribs, on my left side. The shot was like a puff of air. I don't think the shot hurt, but it made me flinch and it scared me somehow. I was disappointed in myself for having been so weak.
The scene replayed, or else the man and I, as if we were rehearsing, started our actions over again. The man was long-haired, possibly Asian. He was explaining to me how this whole thing worked. He showed me that we shot little, neon-green pellets out of our guns. The pellets were soft, like Styrofoam. They didn't hurt at all. They were really fast, but their impact was like it had no speed.
The man shot me again in the ribs, and I flinched again and got scared.
Dream #3
I was with either my old friend R or my brother. We were in a gigantic structure which may itself have been an entire city, an ancient city. The structure was all made out of huge, tan blocks of stone, and warm, soft light flowed into the structure, possibly from windows high up on the walls.
I had gone out of one room and into another. I had been speaking with R/my brother, and was now considering whether to change my religion. The room I was in now may actually have been like a library with grey stone walls. There may have been a long, maroon, velvety banner hanging down from a narrow wall, like one would expect to see draping down behind a throne. I tried to consider the differences in the religions I was deciding between.
I went back into the tan room. All along the walls were doorways to different churches. It was now like I was flying past, and just over, all the doorways, focusing in particular on three doorways. One was to a Catholic church. There may have been a statue of a church official before the door and to the left. I thought there was something I did like about this church, like the monks, but that the overall view of this church didn't match mine.
The next doorway I focused on was something like a Lutheran church, but with some kind of new-age ideology combined with it. I thought this was my church. I felt some kind of familiarity with it, and thought this must have been where I should go. But then I realized there was a lot of stuff in this church's ideology that I didn't feel comfortable with intellectually, and that I felt might actually make me soft or unhealthy. Before this doorway, to the left, was a sculpture, maybe five or six feet tall, of a palm branch.
These first two doorways had been along the left wall of the building, both toward the middle of the wall. The next doorway I focused on was on the right wall, near the top corner, and off to the right of it may actually have been an altar. This doorway was for the Lutheran church. I may have headed directly for this doorway after the previous doorway, as if I needed to convince myself that this doorway actually existed, that the stable church I was looking for was real, not just existing in admixture with things I didn't believe.
I may have been standing on the ground now, not flying. The room itself may also actually have been a sanctuary, with dim lighting, dark walls, and purple carpeting. But the stone doorway to the church still stood in the wall.
Dream #1
I walked through an office hallway. The hallway was narrow, with harsh, white, fluorescent light, grey carpet, and greyish walls. It was like a maze, or it was like this hallway would break off into other maze-like hallways.
I came to a small room, like a pantry, to my right. The head of my department, MR, stood before a tight circle of people, mostly low-level workers like me. He was talking about planning something out, like who would still be working here. He asked the people around him not to say anything.
I was now in a big, warm swimming pool in a room with warm, tan tiling on the walls and floor. The water in the pool was clear and green with depth. I swam before a weird "computer," like an old television with wires connecting in tangles to a rough set of units below it.
My old boss BS swam somewhere behind me and to my left. He said, "Well, I wonder who it's going to be who stays. Well, anyway, it's gonna happen soon." BS stepped out of the pool and told me he'd see me later.
Dream #2
I was in a big room like a mix between a studio and an inner courtyard. The room probably had black walls and columns, like a small theater, and probably had a big window showing blue sky out front. There were a few people with me.
One person and I were having something like a gunfight. We were both climbing up and down aluminum ladders, possibly trying to get up to a balcony level. The man shot me in my ribs, on my left side. The shot was like a puff of air. I don't think the shot hurt, but it made me flinch and it scared me somehow. I was disappointed in myself for having been so weak.
The scene replayed, or else the man and I, as if we were rehearsing, started our actions over again. The man was long-haired, possibly Asian. He was explaining to me how this whole thing worked. He showed me that we shot little, neon-green pellets out of our guns. The pellets were soft, like Styrofoam. They didn't hurt at all. They were really fast, but their impact was like it had no speed.
The man shot me again in the ribs, and I flinched again and got scared.
Dream #3
I was with either my old friend R or my brother. We were in a gigantic structure which may itself have been an entire city, an ancient city. The structure was all made out of huge, tan blocks of stone, and warm, soft light flowed into the structure, possibly from windows high up on the walls.
I had gone out of one room and into another. I had been speaking with R/my brother, and was now considering whether to change my religion. The room I was in now may actually have been like a library with grey stone walls. There may have been a long, maroon, velvety banner hanging down from a narrow wall, like one would expect to see draping down behind a throne. I tried to consider the differences in the religions I was deciding between.
I went back into the tan room. All along the walls were doorways to different churches. It was now like I was flying past, and just over, all the doorways, focusing in particular on three doorways. One was to a Catholic church. There may have been a statue of a church official before the door and to the left. I thought there was something I did like about this church, like the monks, but that the overall view of this church didn't match mine.
The next doorway I focused on was something like a Lutheran church, but with some kind of new-age ideology combined with it. I thought this was my church. I felt some kind of familiarity with it, and thought this must have been where I should go. But then I realized there was a lot of stuff in this church's ideology that I didn't feel comfortable with intellectually, and that I felt might actually make me soft or unhealthy. Before this doorway, to the left, was a sculpture, maybe five or six feet tall, of a palm branch.
These first two doorways had been along the left wall of the building, both toward the middle of the wall. The next doorway I focused on was on the right wall, near the top corner, and off to the right of it may actually have been an altar. This doorway was for the Lutheran church. I may have headed directly for this doorway after the previous doorway, as if I needed to convince myself that this doorway actually existed, that the stable church I was looking for was real, not just existing in admixture with things I didn't believe.
I may have been standing on the ground now, not flying. The room itself may also actually have been a sanctuary, with dim lighting, dark walls, and purple carpeting. But the stone doorway to the church still stood in the wall.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
(3/10/09) flying over kingdoms; how convenient
(Entered in dream journal at 8:30 AM at Starbucks on 29th Street and Park Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
It was a grey day. I was on a big piece of land, which may have been like the ranch owned by MR, the head of the department where I'd worked. I was out with a group of my co-workers, people who were about my age or a little bit younger. MR was like our teacher. We all had to do some kind of English test. I was apart from my group, maybe a couple hundred meters away.
I held some little thing, perhaps like a little animal. There were smooth, rolling, green hills in places and snowy, white hills in other places. I was walking through snow. I dropped the thing in my hands into the snow. It disappeared into the snow, leaving just a trace of its shape. I had been thinking about the English project, but now I thought I might not be doing it after all.
I ran and jumped along a snow-covered strip of land like a road between two small slopes. I jumped really far. I thought I would try again, that this would speed me up, as if I were now trying to get somewhere on time. But now I lifted up and began to fly.
Down below me at first were snowy slopes. A strip of land as straight as a road was full of weird, pinkinsh-red things that I thought of as pin-oak leafs, but which also had a fleshiness, like they were starfish or some other kind of sea creature. I may have dropped something again, down into this long pit. To my right were the green hills, where MR and my peers were.
Before me was a wide river. The sky may actually have been a palish grey-blue, which the surface of the river reflected. Across the river was a band of forest and then something like a set of hills and a castle. I was looking across countries. The river, flowing to my left, curved, almost at a right angle, to the left again down the way. I knew that across the river and around the curve was another country as well. I flew along the river to see what the other country looked like.
All the time I was singing some lewd song, a little modern-sounding. I was thinking about how I would no longer need to do English assignment. But I was hoping to justify my new independence somehow. The song I was singing was supposed to be the justification. I would occasionally dip down and touch my feet to the river, then fly back up.
I got around the corner. I saw the other country, which was on my right. But I didn't go toward it. Instead, there was something like a large pond or small lake to my left. In the lake was a small island, which may have been all lawn. There were a peasant mother and her young boy on the island -- possibly also a white crane. I descended and touched down either on the island or on the water before the island, as if I were going to the ilsand.
Dream #2
I was in some room, which may have been slightly cluttered with electronic equipment and computers. Daylight may have streamed in through a dirty window.
A man sat in front of a computer which may have faced away from the window. I was impressed by the man, even though the man looked a little like a mess. He was tallish with a round, drooping stomach, a long, saggy face, and a head bald except for a slick of dull, black hair around the sides and back of his head. He wore a collared shirt like a polo shirt.
The man was explaining some computer stuff to me. I was trying my best to follow what the man was saying. At some point I spoke about how impressive the website weather.com was, how helpful it was. The man then told me how convenient the internet was. He said he'd made the internet even more convenient.
In the man's bathroom, right above the light switch, he had an LCD strip which was constantly pulling time and temperature from weather.com. I thought, How convenient! Who would have thought the internet could be so constantly accessible! (???) I then thought how I'd like to go one step further and have an internet monitor installed in the shower so I could read or listen to something while I was taking a shower.
I held some little thing, perhaps like a little animal. There were smooth, rolling, green hills in places and snowy, white hills in other places. I was walking through snow. I dropped the thing in my hands into the snow. It disappeared into the snow, leaving just a trace of its shape. I had been thinking about the English project, but now I thought I might not be doing it after all.
I ran and jumped along a snow-covered strip of land like a road between two small slopes. I jumped really far. I thought I would try again, that this would speed me up, as if I were now trying to get somewhere on time. But now I lifted up and began to fly.
Down below me at first were snowy slopes. A strip of land as straight as a road was full of weird, pinkinsh-red things that I thought of as pin-oak leafs, but which also had a fleshiness, like they were starfish or some other kind of sea creature. I may have dropped something again, down into this long pit. To my right were the green hills, where MR and my peers were.
Before me was a wide river. The sky may actually have been a palish grey-blue, which the surface of the river reflected. Across the river was a band of forest and then something like a set of hills and a castle. I was looking across countries. The river, flowing to my left, curved, almost at a right angle, to the left again down the way. I knew that across the river and around the curve was another country as well. I flew along the river to see what the other country looked like.
All the time I was singing some lewd song, a little modern-sounding. I was thinking about how I would no longer need to do English assignment. But I was hoping to justify my new independence somehow. The song I was singing was supposed to be the justification. I would occasionally dip down and touch my feet to the river, then fly back up.
I got around the corner. I saw the other country, which was on my right. But I didn't go toward it. Instead, there was something like a large pond or small lake to my left. In the lake was a small island, which may have been all lawn. There were a peasant mother and her young boy on the island -- possibly also a white crane. I descended and touched down either on the island or on the water before the island, as if I were going to the ilsand.
Dream #2
I was in some room, which may have been slightly cluttered with electronic equipment and computers. Daylight may have streamed in through a dirty window.
A man sat in front of a computer which may have faced away from the window. I was impressed by the man, even though the man looked a little like a mess. He was tallish with a round, drooping stomach, a long, saggy face, and a head bald except for a slick of dull, black hair around the sides and back of his head. He wore a collared shirt like a polo shirt.
The man was explaining some computer stuff to me. I was trying my best to follow what the man was saying. At some point I spoke about how impressive the website weather.com was, how helpful it was. The man then told me how convenient the internet was. He said he'd made the internet even more convenient.
In the man's bathroom, right above the light switch, he had an LCD strip which was constantly pulling time and temperature from weather.com. I thought, How convenient! Who would have thought the internet could be so constantly accessible! (???) I then thought how I'd like to go one step further and have an internet monitor installed in the shower so I could read or listen to something while I was taking a shower.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
(3/22/09) the imminent alligators; off the payroll; the grand tour
(Entered in paper journal at 8:45 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood out in front of my great grandmother's front yard, which was all muddy. The mud curled up in huge waves toward the sidewalk and sloped down from the house to the feet of the waves. In this little hollow there might even have been water.
Out of the mud or water sprung two alligators. They were orange-red with black stripes and, possibly, white bellies. They looked a little distorted, like they were plastic and their faces were narrower than usual, possibly even bulbed somehow. The alligators climbed up onto a little bed of mud to the left of the yard. I knew this was a dangerous situation, and that I should either fight the alligators or call somebody to come take care of them.
Now two more alligators crawled out of the mud. These were much more like regular alligators: large, wide-bodied, blunt-nosed, but still orange-red with black stripes. These alligators looked so dangerous that I thought that if they even saw me they would kill me.
I went into the house to call the police. I sat somewhere near my great grandmother. She told me she'd suspected something dangerous was going to happen when the alligators had come into the house -- which had apparently happened a while ago. I was shocked to hear that the alligators had first been inside the house.
My great grandma told me she had gotten even more suspicious when she would find scratches on her bedroom door and broken patches on her walls. (I could see these things in my mind's eye.) I was even more shocked to hear that so much had gone on in my great grandma's house without my great grandma having called the police.
Dream #2
I was in a cafe that was also something like a cabin in the woods. The place was full of gentle, grey daylight. The door was near the bar (which was on the "back" wall, from my view) and on the right wall. But it was somewhat obscured by a little divider. There was a tall, white man behind the bar. He owned the cafe. I was talking with him as if I were working at the cafe.
Now either my old boss BS or one of my department heads, MR, burst into the cafe. The person said, "Now I've got you! You've been working here, haven't you?"
I thought that that was correct, that I'd been working here one or two days a week. BS/MR said, "You've been getting paid while you were still on our payroll But now I've caught you, and I'm taking you off the payroll!" (In waking life, I'd been laid off from my job; but, though I was no longer to come into the office, I was still kept on the payroll for a little while longer, as a part of my severance package. But the terms of my staying on the payroll were that if I took another job, I'd be taken off the severance package payroll.)
I tried to think of some way out of this situation, or some way to justify what I had done. But I couldn't. I thought, It sucks that I should get in trouble for working only one or two days a week. But those are the rules.
Dream #3
It was a sunny, warm, cloudless day. My brother-in-law was driving himself, my sister, and me to their new house. We rode in an old, wide-bodied car with a pale interior. My sister and I sat in the backseat. My sister and I sat facing each other and were relatively close to each other, as if we were hugging each other, or close enough to be hugging each other. I sat on the driver's side, and my sister sat on the passenger's side.
My brother-in-law and sister took turns speaking to me about how good their new place was. When my sister would talk, she'd say things as if she were also gesturing with her hands to illustrate. But her gestures were actually just reaching into my pants and grabbing me. The first time she did it, she pinched my penis a little, as if I barely had a penis, so that she had to pinch only a little.
I was too shocked by my sister's actions to do anything about it. I hoped she hadn't meant to do it. But then she did it again, this time fingering the underside of my testicles.I had a view of something like a frame of wire-hangers before my mind's eye.
I told my sister (trying not to say exactly what she was doing, so as not to let my brother-in-law know what was going on), "Uh... I think your gestures might need to be away from that place." My sister backed off quickly, as if it were quickly understood that I wasn't interested.
We now pulled up to the new place, which was something more like a multi-story townhouse than a regular single-family house. The front of the house, including the framing and trim, was all a pale coffee color, bordered on top, in my view, with a band of blue sky.
I was slightly disappointed in the place. I had been told that the place was a house, and that it was huge. But this looked like it would be more like a small apartment.
My brother-in-law asked, "Does it seem okay?"
I could tell that my brother-in-law and sister really wanted to impress me. I said, "Yeah, It's great."
My sister took me inside. The place, my sister and brother-in-law had told me, was two stories. But I only saw one story. The place was wide, with a few "main rooms" that were open to one another, providing a wide-open feel. The place was dim. The walls were thin, cheap plaster. The floors were all linoleum, like kitchen floors, and they were dirty.
My sister led me to the left. She showed me two decent-sized rooms that may have seemed run down and too dirty to live in. She showed me another room, which she expressly said was to be a bedroom. It was as small as a closet, and its floors were caked with a rusty, grainy grime. I thought of the grainy grime as rat droppings. I thought that that would really have to be cleaned before anybody could use this place as a bedroom.
My sister led me into a large room which was the master bedroom. She pointed just over and behind us, to a bathroom. It was long, with the toilet at one end and the shower far at the other end. I said, "This is a huge bathroom! Everybody will be happy with this!"
But then I realized the bathroom was attached to the master bedroom. This meant that the bathroom could only be used by the person who stayed in the master bedroom. This would probably be my mom. (The first two rooms I'd seen, or at least one of those rooms, may have been for my sister's children.) I was disappointed that only one person could use such a big bathroom.
My sister then took me into a room which would be the kitchen. It was lit by a wide window. We walked back into one of the "main area" rooms. We walked toward the right side of the room.
The "main area" room gave way to a slightly narrower room that also looked large enough to be a common room. Along the left wall were two bedrooms. Against the back wall was a small bed with a small window over it, high up on the wall. The bed had a small quilt on it.
My sister explained that during the day the room would be used as something like a living room, but that at night my mom would sleep here, to be near my sister's children's rooms. I thought, But weren't the children's rooms on the other side of the house?
Dream #1
I stood out in front of my great grandmother's front yard, which was all muddy. The mud curled up in huge waves toward the sidewalk and sloped down from the house to the feet of the waves. In this little hollow there might even have been water.
Out of the mud or water sprung two alligators. They were orange-red with black stripes and, possibly, white bellies. They looked a little distorted, like they were plastic and their faces were narrower than usual, possibly even bulbed somehow. The alligators climbed up onto a little bed of mud to the left of the yard. I knew this was a dangerous situation, and that I should either fight the alligators or call somebody to come take care of them.
Now two more alligators crawled out of the mud. These were much more like regular alligators: large, wide-bodied, blunt-nosed, but still orange-red with black stripes. These alligators looked so dangerous that I thought that if they even saw me they would kill me.
I went into the house to call the police. I sat somewhere near my great grandmother. She told me she'd suspected something dangerous was going to happen when the alligators had come into the house -- which had apparently happened a while ago. I was shocked to hear that the alligators had first been inside the house.
My great grandma told me she had gotten even more suspicious when she would find scratches on her bedroom door and broken patches on her walls. (I could see these things in my mind's eye.) I was even more shocked to hear that so much had gone on in my great grandma's house without my great grandma having called the police.
Dream #2
I was in a cafe that was also something like a cabin in the woods. The place was full of gentle, grey daylight. The door was near the bar (which was on the "back" wall, from my view) and on the right wall. But it was somewhat obscured by a little divider. There was a tall, white man behind the bar. He owned the cafe. I was talking with him as if I were working at the cafe.
Now either my old boss BS or one of my department heads, MR, burst into the cafe. The person said, "Now I've got you! You've been working here, haven't you?"
I thought that that was correct, that I'd been working here one or two days a week. BS/MR said, "You've been getting paid while you were still on our payroll But now I've caught you, and I'm taking you off the payroll!" (In waking life, I'd been laid off from my job; but, though I was no longer to come into the office, I was still kept on the payroll for a little while longer, as a part of my severance package. But the terms of my staying on the payroll were that if I took another job, I'd be taken off the severance package payroll.)
I tried to think of some way out of this situation, or some way to justify what I had done. But I couldn't. I thought, It sucks that I should get in trouble for working only one or two days a week. But those are the rules.
Dream #3
It was a sunny, warm, cloudless day. My brother-in-law was driving himself, my sister, and me to their new house. We rode in an old, wide-bodied car with a pale interior. My sister and I sat in the backseat. My sister and I sat facing each other and were relatively close to each other, as if we were hugging each other, or close enough to be hugging each other. I sat on the driver's side, and my sister sat on the passenger's side.
My brother-in-law and sister took turns speaking to me about how good their new place was. When my sister would talk, she'd say things as if she were also gesturing with her hands to illustrate. But her gestures were actually just reaching into my pants and grabbing me. The first time she did it, she pinched my penis a little, as if I barely had a penis, so that she had to pinch only a little.
I was too shocked by my sister's actions to do anything about it. I hoped she hadn't meant to do it. But then she did it again, this time fingering the underside of my testicles.I had a view of something like a frame of wire-hangers before my mind's eye.
I told my sister (trying not to say exactly what she was doing, so as not to let my brother-in-law know what was going on), "Uh... I think your gestures might need to be away from that place." My sister backed off quickly, as if it were quickly understood that I wasn't interested.
We now pulled up to the new place, which was something more like a multi-story townhouse than a regular single-family house. The front of the house, including the framing and trim, was all a pale coffee color, bordered on top, in my view, with a band of blue sky.
I was slightly disappointed in the place. I had been told that the place was a house, and that it was huge. But this looked like it would be more like a small apartment.
My brother-in-law asked, "Does it seem okay?"
I could tell that my brother-in-law and sister really wanted to impress me. I said, "Yeah, It's great."
My sister took me inside. The place, my sister and brother-in-law had told me, was two stories. But I only saw one story. The place was wide, with a few "main rooms" that were open to one another, providing a wide-open feel. The place was dim. The walls were thin, cheap plaster. The floors were all linoleum, like kitchen floors, and they were dirty.
My sister led me to the left. She showed me two decent-sized rooms that may have seemed run down and too dirty to live in. She showed me another room, which she expressly said was to be a bedroom. It was as small as a closet, and its floors were caked with a rusty, grainy grime. I thought of the grainy grime as rat droppings. I thought that that would really have to be cleaned before anybody could use this place as a bedroom.
My sister led me into a large room which was the master bedroom. She pointed just over and behind us, to a bathroom. It was long, with the toilet at one end and the shower far at the other end. I said, "This is a huge bathroom! Everybody will be happy with this!"
But then I realized the bathroom was attached to the master bedroom. This meant that the bathroom could only be used by the person who stayed in the master bedroom. This would probably be my mom. (The first two rooms I'd seen, or at least one of those rooms, may have been for my sister's children.) I was disappointed that only one person could use such a big bathroom.
My sister then took me into a room which would be the kitchen. It was lit by a wide window. We walked back into one of the "main area" rooms. We walked toward the right side of the room.
The "main area" room gave way to a slightly narrower room that also looked large enough to be a common room. Along the left wall were two bedrooms. Against the back wall was a small bed with a small window over it, high up on the wall. The bed had a small quilt on it.
My sister explained that during the day the room would be used as something like a living room, but that at night my mom would sleep here, to be near my sister's children's rooms. I thought, But weren't the children's rooms on the other side of the house?
Thursday, November 22, 2012
(5/6/09) annoying a fetish girl; you better be careful, casanova
(Entered in paper journal at 7:41 AM at home.)
Dream #1
I was at "my office." I had been fired by the head of my department, MR. I walked through a floor of trading desk tables. The area was empty, lit with dim, greyish fluorescent light. To my right was a grey wall. To my left were the desks. AT the left end of the rows of desks was another wall, with offices set into it. As I walked along, I thought about having been fired.
I now sat in the far left corner of the floor. There were a few other people around. I sat in a chair while a girl knelt before me. We were talking about something. The girl was short, pale, with a cute, roundish body, and brown hair, probably in a layered style. The girl had pale blue eyes. She wore a fancy, black dress, the top of which seemed a little sparkly while the bottom seemed somehow layered or frilly.
I was apparently wearing dress clothes, but I was also trying to take off a little lingerie miniskirt, which I had apparently been wearing. (This was a skirt I actually had as part of my transvestite collection: a tiny, turquoise-colored, satin miniskirt with a sheer, pink fringe around the bottom.)
There were a couple guys working near me, to my left. The were big and maybe dressed a little roughly. Another man, a big, tough-looking businessman, walked up and spoke with me and the girl. When he saw that I was taking the miniskirt off, he tried to ignore me and keep talking. But he made a grunting or throat-clearing sound to show his annoyance. He walked away.
I was ashamed to thing what the girl would think about me having worn this lingerie. But the girl seemed attracted to me because of my transvestism. She stood me up, possibly taking me by the hand, and led me into an office.
The girl sat down in the chair behind the desk. I knelt before her. She whispered something into my ear which seemed to me to mean that she would like to see me in lingerie. She seemed to be inviting me to her house so I could dress up fro her.
But the girl was saying everything in an obscure way, and her words themselves were somehow very hard to understand. I asked the girl to repeat what she'd said. She did so, but I still couldn't understand. I asked her again. I could tel that she was now getting annoyed.
Dream #2
I was in an office. I had probably just gotten fired. I walked through aisles of trading desk tables. The floor was mostly dark, as if only faint lights from somewhere else lit the room. There were two aisles of table desks. I stood in the left aisle.
In the right aisle, a couple rooms ahead of me, my co-worker NN sat with some other administrative assistants, talking about one of the heads of our department. The head was a woman who had recently become gay or come out as being gay.
NN was showing internet photos to the other assistants: pictures of a man like the director of our department, MR, swinging on something like a strip-club pole and wearing nothing but a diaper-like object made out of gold, red, green, and white striped wrapping paper.
NN said that the newly-outed department head had always engaged in sexual activities like the one pictured with her husband (who may have been another departmental head at the company), so that everybody thought guys turned the woman on, but just in a weird way. But then the woman had come out as gay, and that struck everybody as being even weirder.
I now stood in a large, marble lobby. The floors, ceiling, walls, and columns were all a pinkish-tan, polished marble. I stood on a second level. Down a level from me (to my right, and down by escalator) was the main lobby or entrance for this building. There may have been window walls for the entrance, letting in a lot of natural light.
To my let was a wall (perhaps a tan, unpolished stone, not marble?) with two arched doorways (or, perhaps, at first, just one doorway) in it. This floor was like a mezzanine balcony. It was maybe fifty feet wide and moderately busy with people. Someone stood before me and down a ways. The person looked like a security guard, but he was accomplishing basically the same task I was.
Cars would come from my right (possibly having come up the escalator?) and pass into the doorway to my left. I was overwhelmed with anxiety from having the cars constantly passing so close to me. I was probably here waiting for somebody or waiting for a certain time to pass, and I didn't want to be bothered by the cars. So I backed away a bit, to the second doorway.
Now it was like the entrance way through which the cars passed was one large square, like a theatrical proscenium. The cars passed across a shallow, dim hallway, like a hallway at the Schwarzman branch of the New York Public Library, and then through an arched doorway.
There were a right and a left doorway. The cars had to pass through the right doorway. I stood over at the far left end of the proscenium, trying to stay away from the cars. At the right end was the security guard, who now also stood by a little booth and had an automatically rising gate-post beside him.
At first, the cars kept going through the right doorway, like they should have. But they then began veering as close to me as they could. I felt like they were veering toward me because they didn't like something about my looks. They wanted to intimidate or annoy me by driving close to me. They all understood that they had to go through the right doorway, and that the left doorway was no good for them. But they all drove as far left as possible, to get as close to me as possible.
The cars were all small, possibly made by an Italian manufacturer. Inside, driving, were mature, tough businessmen, like the businessmen in Italian films from the 1960s.
I thought, Well, they'll only be hurting themselves by driving through the left door. To prove this to myself I followed one car as it drove through the doorway. The car immediately hit a downward staircase (wide, tan, marble). It couldn't stop. It stayed upright, but it comically tumbled down the steps.
I now thought it would be fun simply to lure cars into the left doorway, through their anger at me, and watch them destroy themselves. I lured another car in. Then I lured another car in and followed it. The staircase was now a thin escalator, a little grimy, like an escalator down to a lower subway. The hallway was thin.
The car, like a longish, roundish car from the 1930s (my drawing doesn't do it justice), sped onto the escalator and almost immediately flipped over, then toppling over to the left side of the escalator. A wall may have saved it from toppling over the side. But I had a bad feeling the car was going to explode. I may also have seen the second car stalled somewhere near the third car.
I ran back out to the mezzanine. I felt awful: I'd actually caused physical danger by playing an awful mind game with people. I needed to go get help before the car exploded.
The building was now somehow like a movie theater. I flew toward the escalator down to the lobby. I was with two girls. I flew down, slightly ahead of them and over the escalator, while they rode the escalator down. There were bright lights and colors somewhere, possibly coming from some large display. I could somehow see that it was night outside.
I was still apparently rushing out to get help, but I was also with these girls, who had just come from watching a movie. The girls were making some kind of gossip talk about movie stars. I thought, Don't these girls realize what a dangerous situation we're in? I stood on the ground and pushed the door open.
I now sat in a Mexican restaurant with three women. To my left sat a girl like my friend KB. We sat across the table from two other girls, one of whom was intellectual but girly, and the other of whom may have been more tough and solid, like KB.
The restaurant was tall, like it was two stories in height, with the second story as just a balcony running along the walls. The place was empty except for us. We sat at a long row of booth tables before the large square bar which stood at the center of the restaurant. It was night, and the restaurant was dim, with no light on over us and only some incandescent lights over a small area of booth tables which led back to the kitchen to my left.
The girls were all talking gossip talk, possibly about lesbians or about being lesbians. I didn't feel too engaged in the conversation. I might now have been sitting to KB's left.
A waiter walked up to me. He was Mexican, of medium height, but gaunt, bony, and bald, so that he appeared to be tall. He wore an all-white uniform and was pushing a cart, like a cart full of bussing trays and dinnerware for cleaning. The waiter spoke as if he was to get the whole order for my party from me alone. I told him something. He began to walk away.
I may have turned forward, but I then felt a strong hand forcing my head to the left, so I was turned almost 180 degrees in my seat. I broke out of the hold violently and was about to sit forward, when I noticed that the person who had turned me around was the waiter. I thought, Well, I'd better be nice to him. I don't want anybody spitting in my food.
I looked politely at the waiter. The waiter looked very concerned. He bent down and whispered in my ear, "You better be careful, Casanova." It took me a second to understand what the waiter had said, as if the words had been all garbled.
The restaurant seemed a little more populated now. There seemed to be red neon light filling the area. There may have been music playing.
I thought, Why would the waiter have called me Casanova? I then realized it was because I was the only guy sitting with three girls. I thought, If the waiter only knew that these girls were all lesbians, he might not be so worried.
Dream #1
I was at "my office." I had been fired by the head of my department, MR. I walked through a floor of trading desk tables. The area was empty, lit with dim, greyish fluorescent light. To my right was a grey wall. To my left were the desks. AT the left end of the rows of desks was another wall, with offices set into it. As I walked along, I thought about having been fired.
I now sat in the far left corner of the floor. There were a few other people around. I sat in a chair while a girl knelt before me. We were talking about something. The girl was short, pale, with a cute, roundish body, and brown hair, probably in a layered style. The girl had pale blue eyes. She wore a fancy, black dress, the top of which seemed a little sparkly while the bottom seemed somehow layered or frilly.
I was apparently wearing dress clothes, but I was also trying to take off a little lingerie miniskirt, which I had apparently been wearing. (This was a skirt I actually had as part of my transvestite collection: a tiny, turquoise-colored, satin miniskirt with a sheer, pink fringe around the bottom.)
There were a couple guys working near me, to my left. The were big and maybe dressed a little roughly. Another man, a big, tough-looking businessman, walked up and spoke with me and the girl. When he saw that I was taking the miniskirt off, he tried to ignore me and keep talking. But he made a grunting or throat-clearing sound to show his annoyance. He walked away.
I was ashamed to thing what the girl would think about me having worn this lingerie. But the girl seemed attracted to me because of my transvestism. She stood me up, possibly taking me by the hand, and led me into an office.
The girl sat down in the chair behind the desk. I knelt before her. She whispered something into my ear which seemed to me to mean that she would like to see me in lingerie. She seemed to be inviting me to her house so I could dress up fro her.
But the girl was saying everything in an obscure way, and her words themselves were somehow very hard to understand. I asked the girl to repeat what she'd said. She did so, but I still couldn't understand. I asked her again. I could tel that she was now getting annoyed.
Dream #2
I was in an office. I had probably just gotten fired. I walked through aisles of trading desk tables. The floor was mostly dark, as if only faint lights from somewhere else lit the room. There were two aisles of table desks. I stood in the left aisle.
In the right aisle, a couple rooms ahead of me, my co-worker NN sat with some other administrative assistants, talking about one of the heads of our department. The head was a woman who had recently become gay or come out as being gay.
NN was showing internet photos to the other assistants: pictures of a man like the director of our department, MR, swinging on something like a strip-club pole and wearing nothing but a diaper-like object made out of gold, red, green, and white striped wrapping paper.
NN said that the newly-outed department head had always engaged in sexual activities like the one pictured with her husband (who may have been another departmental head at the company), so that everybody thought guys turned the woman on, but just in a weird way. But then the woman had come out as gay, and that struck everybody as being even weirder.
I now stood in a large, marble lobby. The floors, ceiling, walls, and columns were all a pinkish-tan, polished marble. I stood on a second level. Down a level from me (to my right, and down by escalator) was the main lobby or entrance for this building. There may have been window walls for the entrance, letting in a lot of natural light.
To my let was a wall (perhaps a tan, unpolished stone, not marble?) with two arched doorways (or, perhaps, at first, just one doorway) in it. This floor was like a mezzanine balcony. It was maybe fifty feet wide and moderately busy with people. Someone stood before me and down a ways. The person looked like a security guard, but he was accomplishing basically the same task I was.
Cars would come from my right (possibly having come up the escalator?) and pass into the doorway to my left. I was overwhelmed with anxiety from having the cars constantly passing so close to me. I was probably here waiting for somebody or waiting for a certain time to pass, and I didn't want to be bothered by the cars. So I backed away a bit, to the second doorway.
Now it was like the entrance way through which the cars passed was one large square, like a theatrical proscenium. The cars passed across a shallow, dim hallway, like a hallway at the Schwarzman branch of the New York Public Library, and then through an arched doorway.
There were a right and a left doorway. The cars had to pass through the right doorway. I stood over at the far left end of the proscenium, trying to stay away from the cars. At the right end was the security guard, who now also stood by a little booth and had an automatically rising gate-post beside him.
At first, the cars kept going through the right doorway, like they should have. But they then began veering as close to me as they could. I felt like they were veering toward me because they didn't like something about my looks. They wanted to intimidate or annoy me by driving close to me. They all understood that they had to go through the right doorway, and that the left doorway was no good for them. But they all drove as far left as possible, to get as close to me as possible.
The cars were all small, possibly made by an Italian manufacturer. Inside, driving, were mature, tough businessmen, like the businessmen in Italian films from the 1960s.
I thought, Well, they'll only be hurting themselves by driving through the left door. To prove this to myself I followed one car as it drove through the doorway. The car immediately hit a downward staircase (wide, tan, marble). It couldn't stop. It stayed upright, but it comically tumbled down the steps.
I now thought it would be fun simply to lure cars into the left doorway, through their anger at me, and watch them destroy themselves. I lured another car in. Then I lured another car in and followed it. The staircase was now a thin escalator, a little grimy, like an escalator down to a lower subway. The hallway was thin.
The car, like a longish, roundish car from the 1930s (my drawing doesn't do it justice), sped onto the escalator and almost immediately flipped over, then toppling over to the left side of the escalator. A wall may have saved it from toppling over the side. But I had a bad feeling the car was going to explode. I may also have seen the second car stalled somewhere near the third car.
I ran back out to the mezzanine. I felt awful: I'd actually caused physical danger by playing an awful mind game with people. I needed to go get help before the car exploded.
The building was now somehow like a movie theater. I flew toward the escalator down to the lobby. I was with two girls. I flew down, slightly ahead of them and over the escalator, while they rode the escalator down. There were bright lights and colors somewhere, possibly coming from some large display. I could somehow see that it was night outside.
I was still apparently rushing out to get help, but I was also with these girls, who had just come from watching a movie. The girls were making some kind of gossip talk about movie stars. I thought, Don't these girls realize what a dangerous situation we're in? I stood on the ground and pushed the door open.
I now sat in a Mexican restaurant with three women. To my left sat a girl like my friend KB. We sat across the table from two other girls, one of whom was intellectual but girly, and the other of whom may have been more tough and solid, like KB.
The restaurant was tall, like it was two stories in height, with the second story as just a balcony running along the walls. The place was empty except for us. We sat at a long row of booth tables before the large square bar which stood at the center of the restaurant. It was night, and the restaurant was dim, with no light on over us and only some incandescent lights over a small area of booth tables which led back to the kitchen to my left.
The girls were all talking gossip talk, possibly about lesbians or about being lesbians. I didn't feel too engaged in the conversation. I might now have been sitting to KB's left.
A waiter walked up to me. He was Mexican, of medium height, but gaunt, bony, and bald, so that he appeared to be tall. He wore an all-white uniform and was pushing a cart, like a cart full of bussing trays and dinnerware for cleaning. The waiter spoke as if he was to get the whole order for my party from me alone. I told him something. He began to walk away.
I may have turned forward, but I then felt a strong hand forcing my head to the left, so I was turned almost 180 degrees in my seat. I broke out of the hold violently and was about to sit forward, when I noticed that the person who had turned me around was the waiter. I thought, Well, I'd better be nice to him. I don't want anybody spitting in my food.
I looked politely at the waiter. The waiter looked very concerned. He bent down and whispered in my ear, "You better be careful, Casanova." It took me a second to understand what the waiter had said, as if the words had been all garbled.
The restaurant seemed a little more populated now. There seemed to be red neon light filling the area. There may have been music playing.
I thought, Why would the waiter have called me Casanova? I then realized it was because I was the only guy sitting with three girls. I thought, If the waiter only knew that these girls were all lesbians, he might not be so worried.
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