I Dream Of...

A long list of available jobs at one company, pretty much the exact same duties and responsibilities. Just slightly different titles. I apply for every single one of them despite the fact that they are manual labor jobs requiring much, much, much less than I have capacity for.

Driving along a long, curvy, very fast moving road - a wide freeway, actually - with lots and lots of construction materials, mostly long and wide white plastic plumbing pipes, along the side of the road. There are beautiful bridges and trees along the route. And the road is a surprisingly smooth surface to be traveling along - not many bumps along the way. It's a good thing because the water comes up on the road. The pipes fall from their large stacks into my lanes. The trees blow in the wind's fury. And it takes a long time to get to my destination.

The people on the bus are looking me up and down. They're dressed nicely, quietly chatting, sort of pointing, deciding if they agree or not. I'm at their house, on a beautiful deck, taking in the scenery; chatting, listening to their proclamations. I find a piece of fruit, a cherry-plum that is yellow inside. There's something not right. This place is a cult. It's all wrong. So I leave.

The boys elbow is in my kidney again and I wake up.