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Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Blurred Vision

Off topic, but it is Tax Day. When the alarm went off this morning and the radio disc jockey announced the date I panicked, even though our taxes are long complete and returns deposited…

Before the alarm, I was in the middle of a jumbled dream that included my second Vice President of Human Resources at the old company (gone since 1989) quizzing me about my thoughts on the current state of the organization.

Then the third Vice President of Human Resources--there were four, though number three had the longest duration--drove a jet ski onto a tropical beach, engraving a channel into powdered white sand until pausing at the feet of one of his former secretaries, who was reclining on a lounge chair in her bathing suit. She, by the way, hasn’t been employed there in something like 15 years. In the next sequence, I walked into a mammoth lobby tiled in gray slate squares where two sets of industrial-carpeted steps climbed up to a mezzanine, and discovered store managers from this same employer (one who contacted me by LinkedIn this week, so apparently has permission to appear in this dream) arranging visual displays with rows of bright colored pumps and folded blouses. I leaned on the balcony above them as they buttoned pink skirts, compared pastel plaid bottoms and laid each ensemble on just the right step. The LinkedIn manager asked me if I wanted to stay for the show, and I responded, it must be noted with a smile, “Nope, I don’t work here anymore.”

I walked out the door, down a lush pathway in the rain (don’t ask me; it was sunny at the beach) on my way to my college roommate’s home in Montana. (She currently resides on the East Coast.) In my dream, she had recently placed her 10-year-old son on a bus to a photography course (he's almost 18 now, and a professional photographer www.curtis-photo.com/index.php), and while slogging through a downpour, I thought to myself, I can’t wait to get back to her house because my glasses are there. I am so blind, why in heavens name did I leave this morning without them?

Beep. The alarm goes off. It’s not a full moon and last night's dinner wasn’t particularly spicy.

Anyone care to interpret?

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