(Entered in paper journal at 6:01 PM at Starbucks on Astor Place in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was in a room (maybe a cabin) that was my job. I knelt beside a middle-aged man who was a coworker and was getting ready to leave, either for the day or for good. He had a backpack. He pulled our company's investment research books out of the (my?) backpack. There was a stack of them, and they were all thick. I don't remember whether they were to be read or had already been read.
Now my boss was in. We were in another room, something like a double-wide trailer. The man told me, "You'll have to get used to me working a lot of different ways. I almost always work with my shoes off."
I only slightly realized my boss meant to be demeaning. I told him, "It doesn't bother me. Shoes aren't really necessary, are they?" Then I fully realized that my boss meant to offend me by showing me how he could and would disregard me by being slovenly while I was around.
Showing posts with label office. Show all posts
Showing posts with label office. Show all posts
Sunday, February 19, 2017
Sunday, February 5, 2017
(10/14/06) this isn't the brazil you were thinking of; a turbojet panic; snail email
(Entered in paper journal at 9:03 AM at Ozzie's Coffee Shop on Garfield and 5th in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was on a subway. I was trying to get somewhere, but I had gone too far. The few people on the train (mostly Mexican) were telling me so. We stopped at a very wide station with wide, concrete overhangs -- but a very airy place on a grey day -- and like it was in an empty wilderness. I had to take a few stops down to get to a place where I could cross to a train heading in the opposite direction and head back up.
I was in "my bedroom." I may have been living with my mom and everybody else. I was hysterical with grief. I was trying to get to Brazil, but I knew I couldn't get past security the way I was. I had shot myself up with drugs (looked like roach powder from Cronenberg's film of Naked Lunch), either today or in the past couple days, and I knew that would all still be in my system.
But I got even more sorrowful when I recalled that I had actually donated blood after having shot up. Who knew what diseases might be in the blood of someone who shot themselves up with drugs like I had? I hoped the drugs and disease had worked their way out of my system by the time I had donated blood. I felt trapped in my room.
I was on the train. It had been a three hour ride from New York to Brazil. We pulled in by a shore. I walked over to a plaza of wood shop booths. Some mission-style buildings were in the distance.
But someone told me, "This isn't the Brazil you were thinking of. You have to get on a train and go four more hours to get into the main Brazil."
I thought, Do I have time for that? I couldn't remember whether I was here for just one day or for a long time.
Dream 2
I and a friend (unknown/unseen) were in an aviation museum. We came to a small room big enough only to contain a jet like an F-16. It was lit very comfortably and seemed almost like a living room.
My friend showed me a button that could activate the jet from the outside, on the underside. I knew it was there, too: we were both jet experts. But I was surprised it could actually start the jet, which I assumed was decommissioned for the museum.
The friend was now typing at a computer terminal hooked to the button (which was now a flesh-colored, plasticky outlet). The computer was so low he had to sit on the floor with his legs folded under him to type.
As he typed a turbojet beside the man activated. I stood beside it -- I hadn't been aware of its presence on the jet until now. It was bright silver, gnarled with smooth, beautiful pipes. I could see this was actually the strong engine on the jet. I was afraid the friend would get us in trouble for igniting the jet, but I also wanted to see it run. I could feel the intensity of the turbojet.
But a kid who was now with us stood right behind the jet. I pulled him away and held him very close to me. I may have been a woman. I tried to convince the kid, though he wouldn't believe me, that when these jets ignited they would disintegrate him. He had scared the heck out of me by standing right there.
Dream 3
A huge stack of envelopes on a table. They were like emails -- I read them as if off a screen. But I only read their title lines. But somehow a message from my company's sales and research liaison JB made it clear that I needed to read the stack of messages, especially la series of messages sent by him.
I opened one of the messages. It began, "Thank you, first of all, for the good wishes for me and my family. Would you mind..." (at this point he gave me some task to complete).
Dream 1
I was on a subway. I was trying to get somewhere, but I had gone too far. The few people on the train (mostly Mexican) were telling me so. We stopped at a very wide station with wide, concrete overhangs -- but a very airy place on a grey day -- and like it was in an empty wilderness. I had to take a few stops down to get to a place where I could cross to a train heading in the opposite direction and head back up.
I was in "my bedroom." I may have been living with my mom and everybody else. I was hysterical with grief. I was trying to get to Brazil, but I knew I couldn't get past security the way I was. I had shot myself up with drugs (looked like roach powder from Cronenberg's film of Naked Lunch), either today or in the past couple days, and I knew that would all still be in my system.
But I got even more sorrowful when I recalled that I had actually donated blood after having shot up. Who knew what diseases might be in the blood of someone who shot themselves up with drugs like I had? I hoped the drugs and disease had worked their way out of my system by the time I had donated blood. I felt trapped in my room.
I was on the train. It had been a three hour ride from New York to Brazil. We pulled in by a shore. I walked over to a plaza of wood shop booths. Some mission-style buildings were in the distance.
But someone told me, "This isn't the Brazil you were thinking of. You have to get on a train and go four more hours to get into the main Brazil."
I thought, Do I have time for that? I couldn't remember whether I was here for just one day or for a long time.
Dream 2
I and a friend (unknown/unseen) were in an aviation museum. We came to a small room big enough only to contain a jet like an F-16. It was lit very comfortably and seemed almost like a living room.
My friend showed me a button that could activate the jet from the outside, on the underside. I knew it was there, too: we were both jet experts. But I was surprised it could actually start the jet, which I assumed was decommissioned for the museum.
The friend was now typing at a computer terminal hooked to the button (which was now a flesh-colored, plasticky outlet). The computer was so low he had to sit on the floor with his legs folded under him to type.
As he typed a turbojet beside the man activated. I stood beside it -- I hadn't been aware of its presence on the jet until now. It was bright silver, gnarled with smooth, beautiful pipes. I could see this was actually the strong engine on the jet. I was afraid the friend would get us in trouble for igniting the jet, but I also wanted to see it run. I could feel the intensity of the turbojet.
But a kid who was now with us stood right behind the jet. I pulled him away and held him very close to me. I may have been a woman. I tried to convince the kid, though he wouldn't believe me, that when these jets ignited they would disintegrate him. He had scared the heck out of me by standing right there.
Dream 3
A huge stack of envelopes on a table. They were like emails -- I read them as if off a screen. But I only read their title lines. But somehow a message from my company's sales and research liaison JB made it clear that I needed to read the stack of messages, especially la series of messages sent by him.
I opened one of the messages. It began, "Thank you, first of all, for the good wishes for me and my family. Would you mind..." (at this point he gave me some task to complete).
Saturday, March 23, 2013
(6/29/07) cupcake party; old eyes in the new times
(Entered in paper journal at 4 AM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a cubicle before an office. I sat like I was in a chair directly before the doorway to the office. A woman was in the office. she was darkly tanned, a little thick-bodied, with long, wavy, soft brown, and dark blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless, black shirt.
The woman told me, "I like you. You're smart and interesting and amazing." She then began singing to the effect of, "But no matter how I try, I just can't get myself to love you. It's no offense to you. I just can't feel anything for you." I thought it was a beautiful and charming song.
As the woman was partly through, a man walked up to us. He may have been my co-worker MW. The woman stopped singing, as if she thought she would get scolded for saying she didn't love me.
We were all heading downstairs for a celebration. I thought the celebration was for me, because I was doing such a great job. We went down a long escalator in a wide room with one or two other escalators in it. I was not interested in going to this thing, but I thinking of nice things to say.
We got down to a basement that looked like a school cafeteria built into a huge basement laundry room. There were only a couple long bench-tables in the whole space.
In now learned that this celebration was all about a group of people who had put together a really interesting project. They sat at a bench-table.
People were passing around cupcakes. They wanted me to have a plate with three large, frosted cupcakes on it all to myself. But I couldn't eat that much. I took one that looked like German chocolate cake. There was another one that was chocolate on chocolate, and another that was chocolate with blue frosting.
I stood up. Another group of people walked in. I gave them the two cupcakes. I told the group I couldn't possibly eat these cupcakes.
Dream #2
I was in a car with a long-haired, pale-skinned, young man. He kept sucking his mouth around and then away from his teeth, like he had a nervous disorder. He was very thin-faced. I saw him as if I were a camera filming him in the driver's seat. But I was myself, somewhere.
We drove through "New York," around "Central Park." The man told me, "People walk down routes they wouldn't have thought of walking down years ago. This city is different. You simply couldn't walk down those routes a few years ago: you'd get killed.
"We found safer routes in those days. The easiest way was by staying close to the libraries." As we passed gates into the park, the man said, ""You definitely didn't go into the park."
We passed a big library on a triangular corner. A lovely couple walked out. The man said, "Those two right there. That's a sign of the times. They would have gotten beaten up for sure. Now they walk around here shopping for groceries."
I stood out on the corner now, on a little plaza area before the library. There were a few Asian guys in suits handing out Christian literature. I was still seeing everything as if I were a movie camera. I thought this was a movie. I wondered how they got everybody to act so natural.
Dream #1
I was in a cubicle before an office. I sat like I was in a chair directly before the doorway to the office. A woman was in the office. she was darkly tanned, a little thick-bodied, with long, wavy, soft brown, and dark blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless, black shirt.
The woman told me, "I like you. You're smart and interesting and amazing." She then began singing to the effect of, "But no matter how I try, I just can't get myself to love you. It's no offense to you. I just can't feel anything for you." I thought it was a beautiful and charming song.
As the woman was partly through, a man walked up to us. He may have been my co-worker MW. The woman stopped singing, as if she thought she would get scolded for saying she didn't love me.
We were all heading downstairs for a celebration. I thought the celebration was for me, because I was doing such a great job. We went down a long escalator in a wide room with one or two other escalators in it. I was not interested in going to this thing, but I thinking of nice things to say.
We got down to a basement that looked like a school cafeteria built into a huge basement laundry room. There were only a couple long bench-tables in the whole space.
In now learned that this celebration was all about a group of people who had put together a really interesting project. They sat at a bench-table.
People were passing around cupcakes. They wanted me to have a plate with three large, frosted cupcakes on it all to myself. But I couldn't eat that much. I took one that looked like German chocolate cake. There was another one that was chocolate on chocolate, and another that was chocolate with blue frosting.
I stood up. Another group of people walked in. I gave them the two cupcakes. I told the group I couldn't possibly eat these cupcakes.
Dream #2
I was in a car with a long-haired, pale-skinned, young man. He kept sucking his mouth around and then away from his teeth, like he had a nervous disorder. He was very thin-faced. I saw him as if I were a camera filming him in the driver's seat. But I was myself, somewhere.
We drove through "New York," around "Central Park." The man told me, "People walk down routes they wouldn't have thought of walking down years ago. This city is different. You simply couldn't walk down those routes a few years ago: you'd get killed.
"We found safer routes in those days. The easiest way was by staying close to the libraries." As we passed gates into the park, the man said, ""You definitely didn't go into the park."
We passed a big library on a triangular corner. A lovely couple walked out. The man said, "Those two right there. That's a sign of the times. They would have gotten beaten up for sure. Now they walk around here shopping for groceries."
I stood out on the corner now, on a little plaza area before the library. There were a few Asian guys in suits handing out Christian literature. I was still seeing everything as if I were a movie camera. I thought this was a movie. I wondered how they got everybody to act so natural.
Monday, February 18, 2013
(8/25/07) at the air force base
Dream #1
It was daytime. I flew a jet through a flat desert in a clockwise, square route. I flew up from the ground to a large plane. I turned right, descending all that time, to another point. I then turned right again, possibly descending and landing.
I walked into a bedroom like a hotel suite (?). It was a little messy, with clothes slung all over. It was also a little dim.
I could hear, as if in my memory, my (Commanding Officer?) telling me that I had done a good job for my first run. I had flown to XXXXX feet at three hundred miles per hour. I was slightly disappointed that I had done only that small amount, even if it was only my first run.
A woman walked in. She was dressed kind of nice, like a hip girl from a Jean-Luc Godard film. The woman may have been my roommate. The woman said she didn't think she'd be able to make it in to work today. I said I'd call in for her.
I walked into our office, which was right outside my room's door. There were three or four desks. They looked like receptionist's desks. There were tall plants in pots everywhere. The light from the ceiling was a glimmering, watery white. Two girls sat at their desks.
I walked to the back of the office, where it kind of felt like a hair salon, and then back up to the front. I headed back into my room.
The two girls, who may have been Asian, and who were dressed nicely, like the girl who had come into my room, stared at me, or glared at me, as if they were getting ready to expose me for covering up for my roommate.
I stood in a small bathroom. I looked at myself and talked to myself in the mirror. As I did, I saw how I looked more and more like a woman, namely, like my co-worker FA. I wore a white blouse with a slightly frilly collar and short sleeves and a black skirt. I pulled my blouse down to expose my shoulders and chest. I either had no breasts or I couldn't see them.
I sat on a bench built into a wall by a window in my room. I sat there with a man. I was myself again but maybe as a child.
The man and I looked out the window, through the slits in the blinds, to see a man walking across the street. It was a bright, sunny day outside. I knew that this place was the Air Force base.
I wondered how boring and unaccommodating the base would be for people who lived here. But now I saw a shop like a deli or a bodega. It had no front wall, and there seemed to be nothing but candy inside the shop. I thought, You have everything you want!
I looked down and saw on the bench, between me and the man, a clear, plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. The man and I were taking turns eating a cookie. I was making weird noises as I took the cookies and saying silly things like, "One for you, one for me."
I thought, How can I think I"m able to work with the Air Force when I'm doing all this immature stuff?
It was daytime. I flew a jet through a flat desert in a clockwise, square route. I flew up from the ground to a large plane. I turned right, descending all that time, to another point. I then turned right again, possibly descending and landing.
I walked into a bedroom like a hotel suite (?). It was a little messy, with clothes slung all over. It was also a little dim.
I could hear, as if in my memory, my (Commanding Officer?) telling me that I had done a good job for my first run. I had flown to XXXXX feet at three hundred miles per hour. I was slightly disappointed that I had done only that small amount, even if it was only my first run.
A woman walked in. She was dressed kind of nice, like a hip girl from a Jean-Luc Godard film. The woman may have been my roommate. The woman said she didn't think she'd be able to make it in to work today. I said I'd call in for her.
I walked into our office, which was right outside my room's door. There were three or four desks. They looked like receptionist's desks. There were tall plants in pots everywhere. The light from the ceiling was a glimmering, watery white. Two girls sat at their desks.
I walked to the back of the office, where it kind of felt like a hair salon, and then back up to the front. I headed back into my room.
The two girls, who may have been Asian, and who were dressed nicely, like the girl who had come into my room, stared at me, or glared at me, as if they were getting ready to expose me for covering up for my roommate.
I stood in a small bathroom. I looked at myself and talked to myself in the mirror. As I did, I saw how I looked more and more like a woman, namely, like my co-worker FA. I wore a white blouse with a slightly frilly collar and short sleeves and a black skirt. I pulled my blouse down to expose my shoulders and chest. I either had no breasts or I couldn't see them.
I sat on a bench built into a wall by a window in my room. I sat there with a man. I was myself again but maybe as a child.
The man and I looked out the window, through the slits in the blinds, to see a man walking across the street. It was a bright, sunny day outside. I knew that this place was the Air Force base.
I wondered how boring and unaccommodating the base would be for people who lived here. But now I saw a shop like a deli or a bodega. It had no front wall, and there seemed to be nothing but candy inside the shop. I thought, You have everything you want!
I looked down and saw on the bench, between me and the man, a clear, plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. The man and I were taking turns eating a cookie. I was making weird noises as I took the cookies and saying silly things like, "One for you, one for me."
I thought, How can I think I"m able to work with the Air Force when I'm doing all this immature stuff?
Thursday, January 24, 2013
(3/21/08) snap decisions
Dream #1
I was in an office, telling people I probably couldn't see that I was leaving to work at another firm. I surprised a lot of people by making this decision. I felt bad for upsetting people. But I felt I had to stick to my choice.
I was in a dim bedroom. I was waiting for "my psychiatrist" to arrive. I had also made a surprising decision that I had to tell her about.
I walked around alone in the room. On one of the walls was a pink curtain or a set of pink curtains. The fabric was thinnish and bright. Behind the folds of each curtain, I found, were columns of snapshots.
I was in an office, telling people I probably couldn't see that I was leaving to work at another firm. I surprised a lot of people by making this decision. I felt bad for upsetting people. But I felt I had to stick to my choice.
I was in a dim bedroom. I was waiting for "my psychiatrist" to arrive. I had also made a surprising decision that I had to tell her about.
I walked around alone in the room. On one of the walls was a pink curtain or a set of pink curtains. The fabric was thinnish and bright. Behind the folds of each curtain, I found, were columns of snapshots.
Monday, December 31, 2012
(1/2/09) looking at porn and doing the wrong work
(Entered in paper journal at 8:54 AM at Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a room with my brother. The room was like a living room, but I may have been thinking of it as an office. The room had a wood frame around it, like the framing for a loft bed. There may only have been two solid walls, while the other walls were like the section of frame where the walls would eventually be put up. The floors were piled under with multicolored quilts and blankets.
My brother sat or lay on his stomach before an entertainment center which had two or three bright-screened computers on it. I thought, I shouldn't check what he's doing. I'll get in trouble for not working. I looked at the computer screen.
I knew that my brother was typing a lot of random-seeming, almost humorous, words into an internet search engine to pull up pornographic websites showing fat, black women in lingerie. I could see a page like this in my mind's eye: photos of women dispersed throughout a white page, with faded borders around them. But when my brother actually pulled up the web page, it displayed a photo of a few really beautiful, black women, skinny, wearing really elegant lingerie.
I was now "upstairs," on a floor of desks like a trading floor. Only about a quarter of the lights on the floor were on. It was night. I was walking toward "my desk." I was trying to remember the user ID and password for my computer.
I was going to do some work. But I thought to myself, What kind of work am I supposed to be doing? I thought I would pull some earnings conference call transcripts off the internet, to keep my mind fresh on how companies were doing. I wondered whether this would be considered work or whether this would be considered something I wasn't supposed to do.
Dream #1
I was in a room with my brother. The room was like a living room, but I may have been thinking of it as an office. The room had a wood frame around it, like the framing for a loft bed. There may only have been two solid walls, while the other walls were like the section of frame where the walls would eventually be put up. The floors were piled under with multicolored quilts and blankets.
My brother sat or lay on his stomach before an entertainment center which had two or three bright-screened computers on it. I thought, I shouldn't check what he's doing. I'll get in trouble for not working. I looked at the computer screen.
I knew that my brother was typing a lot of random-seeming, almost humorous, words into an internet search engine to pull up pornographic websites showing fat, black women in lingerie. I could see a page like this in my mind's eye: photos of women dispersed throughout a white page, with faded borders around them. But when my brother actually pulled up the web page, it displayed a photo of a few really beautiful, black women, skinny, wearing really elegant lingerie.
I was now "upstairs," on a floor of desks like a trading floor. Only about a quarter of the lights on the floor were on. It was night. I was walking toward "my desk." I was trying to remember the user ID and password for my computer.
I was going to do some work. But I thought to myself, What kind of work am I supposed to be doing? I thought I would pull some earnings conference call transcripts off the internet, to keep my mind fresh on how companies were doing. I wondered whether this would be considered work or whether this would be considered something I wasn't supposed to do.
(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.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
(2/9/09) amphicletes' treasure; a vanful of lesbians; whose hours are longer?
(Entered in paper journal at 9:45 AM at Starbucks on Thirty-sixth Street and Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in "my office," turned away from my computer, to a portion of desk to the left of it. My desk was somewhat cluttered. I was writing on a piece of printing paper which was turned sideways.
A word had been printed on the paper. I was tracing that word in pencil. The word seemed foreign, like it was written in a non-Roman style of lettering. The word started with a "p"-like letter and had a lot of "o"- or "a"-like letters following.
My senior co-worker and sometimes supervisor SK got my attention. I turned to see him standing by my cubicle, to the right of the computer. He asked me if I had a second to help him. I said yes and got up. We walked down a few cubicles to his desk.
To break the silence, I asked SK how everything was going for him. He said, "Oh, good. Just trying to get this" (initiation? launch?) "out." He said it like he was being nice, even though he didn't have to, and that he'd much rather stop talking with an idiot like me and just get down to business.
SK's desk was completely cluttered, and in the bright light, the pages all seemed so sparkling white. SK sat down. I stood behind him, to his left, as he sat facing the screen.
SK turned a little toward me and said, "I'm gonna ask you to do something a little different from what you're used to doing for me." For a moment I wondered if I hadn't performed well enough on the things SK had been asking me to do.
I saw a view under dark blue water, apparently in the ocean. My view was following directly behind someone, possibly me, in scuba gear.
I heard SK say, as if he were still in the office, "There was a man named Amphicletes (?). I am going to ask you to go down to the bottom of the ocean (?) and retrieve his treasure." I could see a giant, golden ring and a pink, Venetian-style corset.
Dream #2
I got into a big van, like the van used by the crew I'd been a part of when I'd worked for the New York City Parks Department. The inside was icy, pale blue-grey, and the light coming in was grey like mid-morning on a cloudy winter day. I sat in a row of bench seats two rows back from the front seats. There was plenty of aisle space and leg space. I sat on the aisle side, the right side.
To my left sat a tomboyish girl. The whole van may actually have been full of boyish-looking lesbians. Either I or the girl who sat next to me (or both) started playing on a phone (or phones) that looked like the new thin BlackBerrys, or else like the LG Gravity phones.
My parks co-worker and good friend KB now got into the van. I may have seen her at first as she'd walked in front of the front windshield as she'd approached the van. I was surprised to see her. I didn't want her to think I'd been ignoring her all this time, but I also didn't want her to think I had come to this meeting (apparently this was a meeting of some kind!) because I was stalking her or something.
KB seemed a little negatively surprised when she saw me. She acted nonchalant, but also a little cold, as if sh'ed rather pretend I didn't exist. She may have sat in the row in front of me, in the space just to my left. I hoped she wouldn't think I was at this meeting just so I could hang around a bunch of lesbians, like I had some kind of lesbian fetish.
I myself wasn't sure why I was here. I tried to break the ice by saying something to KB. But I may have ahd the feeling that she didn't want me to talk with her at all.
Dream #3
I was at the top of a staircase and looking into a room like a large classroom or a lunchroom in an early-twentieth-century building. I stood huddled with a group of people who were about my age and a little bit younger.
The crowd around me was pretty active, moving here and there and standing still, talking with each other, and trying to talk to the same person I was trying to talk to: an Asian-American man who was a little heavyset and square-faced, with short hair, a slightly receding hairline, squarish eyeglasses, and possibly wearing some kind of uniform.
I was talking to the man through the intrusive crowd, asking him about a job opening he had. I said, "How do the hours sound compared to this? When I was in my Americorps program with the New York City Parks, I worked from" (10 to 5? 8 to 10? 8 to 5?) "Monday through Friday and then from 9 to 5 (?) on Saturday and Sunday." I thought the amount of hours I worked per week would really impress the man.
But now a tall man, maybe five years or more younger than I, Asian-American-looking, wearing a puffyish, black jacket and thin-framed eyeglasses, with fuzzy hair, like he'd shaved his head a couple months ago but wasn't styling it now that it was grown back, interrupted me. He said, as if he were already familiar with the older man, "Hey, like I said, man, I worked from XXXXX to XXXXX on Mondays through Fridays and from XXXXX to XXXXX on Saturdays and Sundays. I'll see you later, man." The young man then walked away through the crowd and down the stairs.
I was completely at a loss. The hours this man just said beat my hours by three hours a day on Mondays through Fridays, and his Saturdays and Sundays were just as long as his Mondays through Fridays. I thought, This guy has the job. There's no way I can beat him at those hours.
Dream #1
I was in "my office," turned away from my computer, to a portion of desk to the left of it. My desk was somewhat cluttered. I was writing on a piece of printing paper which was turned sideways.
A word had been printed on the paper. I was tracing that word in pencil. The word seemed foreign, like it was written in a non-Roman style of lettering. The word started with a "p"-like letter and had a lot of "o"- or "a"-like letters following.
My senior co-worker and sometimes supervisor SK got my attention. I turned to see him standing by my cubicle, to the right of the computer. He asked me if I had a second to help him. I said yes and got up. We walked down a few cubicles to his desk.
To break the silence, I asked SK how everything was going for him. He said, "Oh, good. Just trying to get this" (initiation? launch?) "out." He said it like he was being nice, even though he didn't have to, and that he'd much rather stop talking with an idiot like me and just get down to business.
SK's desk was completely cluttered, and in the bright light, the pages all seemed so sparkling white. SK sat down. I stood behind him, to his left, as he sat facing the screen.
SK turned a little toward me and said, "I'm gonna ask you to do something a little different from what you're used to doing for me." For a moment I wondered if I hadn't performed well enough on the things SK had been asking me to do.
I saw a view under dark blue water, apparently in the ocean. My view was following directly behind someone, possibly me, in scuba gear.
I heard SK say, as if he were still in the office, "There was a man named Amphicletes (?). I am going to ask you to go down to the bottom of the ocean (?) and retrieve his treasure." I could see a giant, golden ring and a pink, Venetian-style corset.
Dream #2
I got into a big van, like the van used by the crew I'd been a part of when I'd worked for the New York City Parks Department. The inside was icy, pale blue-grey, and the light coming in was grey like mid-morning on a cloudy winter day. I sat in a row of bench seats two rows back from the front seats. There was plenty of aisle space and leg space. I sat on the aisle side, the right side.
To my left sat a tomboyish girl. The whole van may actually have been full of boyish-looking lesbians. Either I or the girl who sat next to me (or both) started playing on a phone (or phones) that looked like the new thin BlackBerrys, or else like the LG Gravity phones.
My parks co-worker and good friend KB now got into the van. I may have seen her at first as she'd walked in front of the front windshield as she'd approached the van. I was surprised to see her. I didn't want her to think I'd been ignoring her all this time, but I also didn't want her to think I had come to this meeting (apparently this was a meeting of some kind!) because I was stalking her or something.
KB seemed a little negatively surprised when she saw me. She acted nonchalant, but also a little cold, as if sh'ed rather pretend I didn't exist. She may have sat in the row in front of me, in the space just to my left. I hoped she wouldn't think I was at this meeting just so I could hang around a bunch of lesbians, like I had some kind of lesbian fetish.
I myself wasn't sure why I was here. I tried to break the ice by saying something to KB. But I may have ahd the feeling that she didn't want me to talk with her at all.
Dream #3
I was at the top of a staircase and looking into a room like a large classroom or a lunchroom in an early-twentieth-century building. I stood huddled with a group of people who were about my age and a little bit younger.
The crowd around me was pretty active, moving here and there and standing still, talking with each other, and trying to talk to the same person I was trying to talk to: an Asian-American man who was a little heavyset and square-faced, with short hair, a slightly receding hairline, squarish eyeglasses, and possibly wearing some kind of uniform.
I was talking to the man through the intrusive crowd, asking him about a job opening he had. I said, "How do the hours sound compared to this? When I was in my Americorps program with the New York City Parks, I worked from" (10 to 5? 8 to 10? 8 to 5?) "Monday through Friday and then from 9 to 5 (?) on Saturday and Sunday." I thought the amount of hours I worked per week would really impress the man.
But now a tall man, maybe five years or more younger than I, Asian-American-looking, wearing a puffyish, black jacket and thin-framed eyeglasses, with fuzzy hair, like he'd shaved his head a couple months ago but wasn't styling it now that it was grown back, interrupted me. He said, as if he were already familiar with the older man, "Hey, like I said, man, I worked from XXXXX to XXXXX on Mondays through Fridays and from XXXXX to XXXXX on Saturdays and Sundays. I'll see you later, man." The young man then walked away through the crowd and down the stairs.
I was completely at a loss. The hours this man just said beat my hours by three hours a day on Mondays through Fridays, and his Saturdays and Sundays were just as long as his Mondays through Fridays. I thought, This guy has the job. There's no way I can beat him at those hours.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
(2/12/09) assignment from boss; guns make zombies
Dream #1
I sat in an "office" with my old boss BS. The office felt more like a bedroom with a desk and messy piles of paper everywhere. The room's atmosphere was like that of the room I'd had in a double-wide trailer I'd lived in at a National Park in New Mexico. It had bluish-grey light, thin, fake-wood walls, and a cold feeling all over.
BS asked me either to help him take care of something only I could take care of or to look at some of his most recent reports. If BS asked me to look at his reports, it would have been because he'd finally used some of the ideas I'd had about the stocks we were doing research on, but he didn't want to tell me that directly.
Dream #2
A lot of scenes I don't remember, involving a group of masculine, kind of redneck-like, lesbian women. The scenes took place on bright, hot days, like in the summer, possibly somewhere down south. They largely took place in or near trailer-houses with yards full of neglected, overgrown, tangled vegetation, garbage, and mechanical scraps. There may have been some apocalypse which killed people or turned them into zombies, or else there would soon be an apocalypse like this.
Now there were three women in a house. They were in a bright-walled, extremely cluttered room. They were apparently training on how to use some new guns they'd gotten. I wasn't in this scene at all. It wasn't like I was watching a movie, but more like everything was just there without me.
One of the group of three may actually have been a man. He/she wore a drab, green t-shirt, a similar trucker's cap, and eyeglasses. Another girl wore blue jeans and a white, ribbed tank-top.
Some other girl (a fourth) said she didn't want to learn to use guns. For some reason I agreed with her. I felt like using guns in this situation would also turn people into zombies.
The girl walked out of the house. The boy/girl in the green called after her as the three girls walked out of the house. He/she said, "Have it your way! Who knows? Maybe once we've learned how to use these guns we'll just come shooting you!"
The other two girls said, "No, no," to the girl/boy in green, as if to calm her and stop her from saying foolish things.
The boy/girl now shouted, "Or, I mean, maybe we'll come shooting zombies to protect you!"
I sat in an "office" with my old boss BS. The office felt more like a bedroom with a desk and messy piles of paper everywhere. The room's atmosphere was like that of the room I'd had in a double-wide trailer I'd lived in at a National Park in New Mexico. It had bluish-grey light, thin, fake-wood walls, and a cold feeling all over.
BS asked me either to help him take care of something only I could take care of or to look at some of his most recent reports. If BS asked me to look at his reports, it would have been because he'd finally used some of the ideas I'd had about the stocks we were doing research on, but he didn't want to tell me that directly.
Dream #2
A lot of scenes I don't remember, involving a group of masculine, kind of redneck-like, lesbian women. The scenes took place on bright, hot days, like in the summer, possibly somewhere down south. They largely took place in or near trailer-houses with yards full of neglected, overgrown, tangled vegetation, garbage, and mechanical scraps. There may have been some apocalypse which killed people or turned them into zombies, or else there would soon be an apocalypse like this.
Now there were three women in a house. They were in a bright-walled, extremely cluttered room. They were apparently training on how to use some new guns they'd gotten. I wasn't in this scene at all. It wasn't like I was watching a movie, but more like everything was just there without me.
Some other girl (a fourth) said she didn't want to learn to use guns. For some reason I agreed with her. I felt like using guns in this situation would also turn people into zombies.
The girl walked out of the house. The boy/girl in the green called after her as the three girls walked out of the house. He/she said, "Have it your way! Who knows? Maybe once we've learned how to use these guns we'll just come shooting you!"
The other two girls said, "No, no," to the girl/boy in green, as if to calm her and stop her from saying foolish things.
The boy/girl now shouted, "Or, I mean, maybe we'll come shooting zombies to protect you!"
Sunday, November 11, 2012
(11/15/09) the job isn't mine
(Entered in paper journal at 7:35 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood with a woman in an office space. The space may have been on a second floor or so, with its edge somehow making a balcony over the ground floor below. I stood before a wall that was lined with couches. I was on the right end of the wall.
On the left end of the wall were a line of people, all heading down a hallway. I could tell the people were going in to interview for the job I thought I already had. I started getting really angry. I thought I would complain to the person I'd thought I was going to be working with.
But the woman I stood with pushed me into a big office, the door to which we had been standing right in front of. The woman lay on a long, leather couch. I stood before the couch, possibly looking at a blind-curtained window on one of the walls.
I told the woman how angry I was. Everybody had made it sound like I was hired. And now I was, it seemed, just another person coming in for an interview.
Dream #1
I stood with a woman in an office space. The space may have been on a second floor or so, with its edge somehow making a balcony over the ground floor below. I stood before a wall that was lined with couches. I was on the right end of the wall.
On the left end of the wall were a line of people, all heading down a hallway. I could tell the people were going in to interview for the job I thought I already had. I started getting really angry. I thought I would complain to the person I'd thought I was going to be working with.
But the woman I stood with pushed me into a big office, the door to which we had been standing right in front of. The woman lay on a long, leather couch. I stood before the couch, possibly looking at a blind-curtained window on one of the walls.
I told the woman how angry I was. Everybody had made it sound like I was hired. And now I was, it seemed, just another person coming in for an interview.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
(2/3/10) demoted; don't take the elevator
(Entered in paper journal at 6:30 AM on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was at a desk in an office space. The space was dim, as if half-lit, with the lights over me being off. The desk was like a trading desk, with a number of work spaces at a long table. The table was grey. I sat at the right end. On the wall to my right were offices with their lights on. There may also have been filing cabinets, or some other kind of office furniture, between me and the wall. I was probably alone at the desk.
As I worked on some project, a man came up and stood behind me. He asked me a few questions about what I was working on. I explained it to him. He pointed out certain things that were, he felt, not appropriate to say about our company. This mainly had to do with the fact that we didn't have certain personnel (management?) on our team yet. I didn't quite know this, being a contracted worker, not a permanent employee.
I said I would keep the items out of the report I was working on. The man then told me (the man may have been young, tall, thin, and a bit pale skinned), "Well, I think there are a lot of things I feel uneasy letting pass through with this report. In fact, let's hold on with this report. Come with me. I'll show you someone to talk with to see what work is good for you to do."
I stood up and walked to the left, down a smallish, wideish hallway, to a smaller, but more open, area with more light (tannish-yellow fluorescent). Along the right wall were large, tan filing cabinets. In the center of the room were two folding tables, maybe six feet long each, set end-to-end with each other. Along the wall were offices. Farther up, I could see a conference room, lit by natural light. The man pointed me to a seat near me on the right end of the table. I sat down and faced the filing cabinets.
Another man had come and sit down in the space across from mine, possibly as I had been sitting down myself. The man was extremely thin, and possibly tall. He was white, but very tan. His skin had a hardened, dried-out look. He had blue-green eyes that looked pale, even though they weren't. His head and face were slightly stubby. His head had a few texture-lines, from veins. In a couple places, those veins had been scratched or cut, and patches of dried blood were caked to them. The man wore a vivid, pine-green shirt with thick, dense paisley designs outlined in black.
I though, for some reason, that this man was gay. But I could also tell that the man's job wasn't the same as my job. I was being brought here, I feared, so I could be taught how to do an easier, lower-level job. I was afraid that it had been decided that I was no longer competent to do the higher-level work I'd been doing.
Dream #2
I was in a lobby-like area, possibly on the second floor of a building. The area was wide, tall, open, with white floors that looked like hospital floors.
I walked into an elevator. The elevator had two doors, one before me and one to my left. As I got on the elevator, a couple women from my work ran toward the elevator, telling me not to get on.
The elevator door closed, but I may have stuck my arm in the left door to reopen it, then looked around the corner to find the women, who had been standing before the door.
Dream #1
I was at a desk in an office space. The space was dim, as if half-lit, with the lights over me being off. The desk was like a trading desk, with a number of work spaces at a long table. The table was grey. I sat at the right end. On the wall to my right were offices with their lights on. There may also have been filing cabinets, or some other kind of office furniture, between me and the wall. I was probably alone at the desk.
As I worked on some project, a man came up and stood behind me. He asked me a few questions about what I was working on. I explained it to him. He pointed out certain things that were, he felt, not appropriate to say about our company. This mainly had to do with the fact that we didn't have certain personnel (management?) on our team yet. I didn't quite know this, being a contracted worker, not a permanent employee.
I said I would keep the items out of the report I was working on. The man then told me (the man may have been young, tall, thin, and a bit pale skinned), "Well, I think there are a lot of things I feel uneasy letting pass through with this report. In fact, let's hold on with this report. Come with me. I'll show you someone to talk with to see what work is good for you to do."
I stood up and walked to the left, down a smallish, wideish hallway, to a smaller, but more open, area with more light (tannish-yellow fluorescent). Along the right wall were large, tan filing cabinets. In the center of the room were two folding tables, maybe six feet long each, set end-to-end with each other. Along the wall were offices. Farther up, I could see a conference room, lit by natural light. The man pointed me to a seat near me on the right end of the table. I sat down and faced the filing cabinets.
Another man had come and sit down in the space across from mine, possibly as I had been sitting down myself. The man was extremely thin, and possibly tall. He was white, but very tan. His skin had a hardened, dried-out look. He had blue-green eyes that looked pale, even though they weren't. His head and face were slightly stubby. His head had a few texture-lines, from veins. In a couple places, those veins had been scratched or cut, and patches of dried blood were caked to them. The man wore a vivid, pine-green shirt with thick, dense paisley designs outlined in black.
I though, for some reason, that this man was gay. But I could also tell that the man's job wasn't the same as my job. I was being brought here, I feared, so I could be taught how to do an easier, lower-level job. I was afraid that it had been decided that I was no longer competent to do the higher-level work I'd been doing.
Dream #2
I was in a lobby-like area, possibly on the second floor of a building. The area was wide, tall, open, with white floors that looked like hospital floors.
I walked into an elevator. The elevator had two doors, one before me and one to my left. As I got on the elevator, a couple women from my work ran toward the elevator, telling me not to get on.
The elevator door closed, but I may have stuck my arm in the left door to reopen it, then looked around the corner to find the women, who had been standing before the door.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
(3/4/10) shave your face!
(Entered in paper journal 6:15 AM, on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I sat in an office room. The room was small, unlit, with a little daylight coming through a window, from which I was separated by a tall, bookshelf-like partition between desks. There may have been four desks in the room, in pairs, the pairs partitioned by these tall, desktop "bookshelves." The space was cluttered with papers, and it all had an old feeling to it, like the old back office at a National Park.
I sat angled (in a swivel chair?) so that I could see the door. Through the door and across a fluorescent-lit hallway was a smaller room. In that room, my boss CR (?) stood talking with an old boss of mine, PG. I was surprised and happy to see PG here, and I hoped she would come talk to me.
She finished talking with CR and came over to talk with me. She looked a little different: her hair was paler than its usual dark red-brown. And somehow she looked larger than before. She sat down and spoke with me for a moment. I was so happy to be able to show her I'd gotten this far along in my career. PG stood up and walked past my desk, toward the windows.
A man now walked into the room. He was tallish, wide-framed, fattish, with a wide, bald head tufted with a grey and white cloud bank of hair on the sides. He either sat down or stayed standing and addressed me. He handed me a big pocketknife. The knife was maybe six inches long. The handle/case was some kind of wood-colored plastic or stone material, capped at the ends with metal.
I pulled out one of the blades in the case. It was an old-fashioned shaving razor. The man told me, "Now use it! Shave yourself! Shave your face!" He told me to do so as if that was what the next phase of my career depended on.
Dream #1
I sat in an office room. The room was small, unlit, with a little daylight coming through a window, from which I was separated by a tall, bookshelf-like partition between desks. There may have been four desks in the room, in pairs, the pairs partitioned by these tall, desktop "bookshelves." The space was cluttered with papers, and it all had an old feeling to it, like the old back office at a National Park.
I sat angled (in a swivel chair?) so that I could see the door. Through the door and across a fluorescent-lit hallway was a smaller room. In that room, my boss CR (?) stood talking with an old boss of mine, PG. I was surprised and happy to see PG here, and I hoped she would come talk to me.
She finished talking with CR and came over to talk with me. She looked a little different: her hair was paler than its usual dark red-brown. And somehow she looked larger than before. She sat down and spoke with me for a moment. I was so happy to be able to show her I'd gotten this far along in my career. PG stood up and walked past my desk, toward the windows.
A man now walked into the room. He was tallish, wide-framed, fattish, with a wide, bald head tufted with a grey and white cloud bank of hair on the sides. He either sat down or stayed standing and addressed me. He handed me a big pocketknife. The knife was maybe six inches long. The handle/case was some kind of wood-colored plastic or stone material, capped at the ends with metal.
I pulled out one of the blades in the case. It was an old-fashioned shaving razor. The man told me, "Now use it! Shave yourself! Shave your face!" He told me to do so as if that was what the next phase of my career depended on.
(3/9/10) boss is a glass dyer; i don't want to love a man
(Entered 3/9/10, 6:15 AM, on the B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in an office with my old boss BS. The office was kind of spacious and it had a wide window wall, possily looking out over a city from a high floor. The office was moderately, not overly, cluttered.
BS told me he had to make some extra money to supplement his work pay now that times were tough. He handed me a stack of business cards. The cards were all about half the height of normal business cards, so that they looked more like strips than cards. Each card was a different kind of crafty or odd-jobby kind of profession. The top card, however, struck me most. It said, "GLASS DYER." I was astounded that BS knew how to dye glass!
BS was now walking out of his office. He said, "Well, anyway, it helps me make money, and it's something I like to do." I called after BS, telling him I thought it was incredible he knew how to dye glass. I wanted to know more about it. I felt like he had somehow thought I was being condescending about the whole thing, which I wasn't.
Dream #2
I lay on a stone walkway in the garden of some Mediterranean-style villa. I lay right by a gate which jutted out from the wall of the house. The gate had a grey, stone column. The column seemed to divide the area on the other side of the gate into two walkways.
I thought to myself something about how I wished I could find love. And now, at the end of the left walkway, a tallish, lean, muscular man with tanned skin and black hair came turning around a curve from the right. He wore only knee-length shorts. He was wet, as if he had been out swimming.
I thought that since I had seen the man so soon after having thought how I needed love, that the man was the one I was supposed to be with. I was upset. I thought, I'm not gay; I don't want to be with a man. Then I thought, Besides, this guy's a real jerk, too.
Now a whole group of people came walking up the right hallway. The man had crossed before me and headed into a doorway into the house, to my right. Now the other people were doing the same thing. They had all come from swimming. Apparently I was one of their group. But I hadn't gone swimming: I hadn't felt up to it.
Now, looking at all the people, I thought, Maybe I could be with one of the girls in this group. But, I (possibly) thought, I couldn't really feel attraction to any of them.
Dream #1
I was in an office with my old boss BS. The office was kind of spacious and it had a wide window wall, possily looking out over a city from a high floor. The office was moderately, not overly, cluttered.
BS told me he had to make some extra money to supplement his work pay now that times were tough. He handed me a stack of business cards. The cards were all about half the height of normal business cards, so that they looked more like strips than cards. Each card was a different kind of crafty or odd-jobby kind of profession. The top card, however, struck me most. It said, "GLASS DYER." I was astounded that BS knew how to dye glass!
BS was now walking out of his office. He said, "Well, anyway, it helps me make money, and it's something I like to do." I called after BS, telling him I thought it was incredible he knew how to dye glass. I wanted to know more about it. I felt like he had somehow thought I was being condescending about the whole thing, which I wasn't.
Dream #2
I lay on a stone walkway in the garden of some Mediterranean-style villa. I lay right by a gate which jutted out from the wall of the house. The gate had a grey, stone column. The column seemed to divide the area on the other side of the gate into two walkways.
I thought to myself something about how I wished I could find love. And now, at the end of the left walkway, a tallish, lean, muscular man with tanned skin and black hair came turning around a curve from the right. He wore only knee-length shorts. He was wet, as if he had been out swimming.
I thought that since I had seen the man so soon after having thought how I needed love, that the man was the one I was supposed to be with. I was upset. I thought, I'm not gay; I don't want to be with a man. Then I thought, Besides, this guy's a real jerk, too.
Now a whole group of people came walking up the right hallway. The man had crossed before me and headed into a doorway into the house, to my right. Now the other people were doing the same thing. They had all come from swimming. Apparently I was one of their group. But I hadn't gone swimming: I hadn't felt up to it.
Now, looking at all the people, I thought, Maybe I could be with one of the girls in this group. But, I (possibly) thought, I couldn't really feel attraction to any of them.
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