I dreamt that the sky was not good. Well, not "healthy." The air had not been moving in a while and the sky was dark with clouds that looked like upside down dollops of mashed potatoes dipped in gravy.
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I dreamt I was with my boyfriend (some blond guy), and we had driven to his apartment. We went up some outdoor stairs to get to his place on the second or third floor. I had been wearing a white skirt, and in the dream, was a bit of a looker. As I was going up the stairs, I was getting attention from men around. Part of me liked an affirmation of my looks, the other didn't appreciate the uninvited stares. I noticed that my skirt had hiked up from sitting in the car, revealing a green skirt beneath. I pulled down my skirt, asking him to remind me to pull it down, him smirking. It wasn't a sweet smirk.
Then I was going to a hospital type place, I was starting a new job at a place where dead people were. Not a morgue, not a hospital, not a funeral parlor. It was a light office type space, with small rooms that were well lit. The deceased were all on massage type tables, in that they were small and minimal regarding furniture and cushion. There was a deceased person in each room and a watcher or keeper of the room. They were there in a way to keep the body company, make sure it was ok, but possibly more so for the ones left behind so they felt better about the situation. Made the deceased seem more human, more alive, more warm. My job was to do something very simple. I was to file documents, possibly answer the phone if it ever rang, and otherwise lay on a similar massage type table in the small lobby and play dead for passers by. There was a woman there filing and as I was just sitting there doing nothing, and felt I should be doing something, I finally said hello and introduced myself. She said replied with an almost apologetic introduction. She was Mary and she was only there temporarily, so she wouldn't be able to make friends or mentor me much. She seemed more of a home body, with little experience, maybe picking up some cash for a holiday. I felt better at least talking to her though and being friendly. She said "here, would you like half of the filing?" and I was happy to take it. All by numbers and a word. I know it started with a D, was it died? deceased? You either filed it by number, or by the word then number. The files were all a mess. I felt good knowing I could add a little value to this simple task by tidying it up. Then the boss woman came in. She said something about a parking space and gave me a smile as though she was giving me the secret of how to turn metal to gold. I replied in a positive manner although I really wasn't sure I wanted a space. I didn't think I would be here long. While I was filing I was thinking, this is not my place. I don't fit with the work, the people, the walls. Should I get that masters in Psychology? Yes... why shouldn't I. Sure, I'll be in debt .... then that thought faded with my sureness of my decision. Decision! That was the D word, or more... decided. Although I think maybe if they were on the files... maybe they were linked with the dead people. The small reception area had just enough space for a tiny desk facing away from the office door but down the hallway of massage tables, a massage table and a small cooler for drinks. My filing was done, so I went to the table to lay and be still. The wall to the outside was a wall of glass. So passers flick their eyes over for a quick look, make an expression and flick back. I could see one woman looking empathetic, another knew I was playing dead and with an eyebrow showed her judgement. Then I saw my boyfriend coming in. I sat up to greet him. He had a huge bouquet of beautiful colorful flowers. They were for his fiance. She was on a massage table down the hall. I wondered... how long will he keep her here? How long will he need to visit this memory? For some reason, it didn't bother me too much, but that reason may have been that I never really invested in him. I walked down the hall way to have a look. It looked cold and sterile, but it felt warm. Kind of like a movie robot that has a monotone voice, but somehow shows feeling. I walked back to the reception area. There were other employees there goofing about. I saw that one of them had dropped and sullied a roll cushion from the massage table. It turns out it was my own table and cushion. I picked it up and I was disappointed to see that this new cushion was soiled beyond repair and had worn holes in it. I turned to my temporary coworker and asked..."how does someone do this? I have had this a long time and I take care of things."
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I dreamt I was with my boyfriend (some blond guy), and we had driven to his apartment. We went up some outdoor stairs to get to his place on the second or third floor. I had been wearing a white skirt, and in the dream, was a bit of a looker. As I was going up the stairs, I was getting attention from men around. Part of me liked an affirmation of my looks, the other didn't appreciate the uninvited stares. I noticed that my skirt had hiked up from sitting in the car, revealing a green skirt beneath. I pulled down my skirt, asking him to remind me to pull it down, him smirking. It wasn't a sweet smirk.
Then I was going to a hospital type place, I was starting a new job at a place where dead people were. Not a morgue, not a hospital, not a funeral parlor. It was a light office type space, with small rooms that were well lit. The deceased were all on massage type tables, in that they were small and minimal regarding furniture and cushion. There was a deceased person in each room and a watcher or keeper of the room. They were there in a way to keep the body company, make sure it was ok, but possibly more so for the ones left behind so they felt better about the situation. Made the deceased seem more human, more alive, more warm. My job was to do something very simple. I was to file documents, possibly answer the phone if it ever rang, and otherwise lay on a similar massage type table in the small lobby and play dead for passers by. There was a woman there filing and as I was just sitting there doing nothing, and felt I should be doing something, I finally said hello and introduced myself. She said replied with an almost apologetic introduction. She was Mary and she was only there temporarily, so she wouldn't be able to make friends or mentor me much. She seemed more of a home body, with little experience, maybe picking up some cash for a holiday. I felt better at least talking to her though and being friendly. She said "here, would you like half of the filing?" and I was happy to take it. All by numbers and a word. I know it started with a D, was it died? deceased? You either filed it by number, or by the word then number. The files were all a mess. I felt good knowing I could add a little value to this simple task by tidying it up. Then the boss woman came in. She said something about a parking space and gave me a smile as though she was giving me the secret of how to turn metal to gold. I replied in a positive manner although I really wasn't sure I wanted a space. I didn't think I would be here long. While I was filing I was thinking, this is not my place. I don't fit with the work, the people, the walls. Should I get that masters in Psychology? Yes... why shouldn't I. Sure, I'll be in debt .... then that thought faded with my sureness of my decision. Decision! That was the D word, or more... decided. Although I think maybe if they were on the files... maybe they were linked with the dead people. The small reception area had just enough space for a tiny desk facing away from the office door but down the hallway of massage tables, a massage table and a small cooler for drinks. My filing was done, so I went to the table to lay and be still. The wall to the outside was a wall of glass. So passers flick their eyes over for a quick look, make an expression and flick back. I could see one woman looking empathetic, another knew I was playing dead and with an eyebrow showed her judgement. Then I saw my boyfriend coming in. I sat up to greet him. He had a huge bouquet of beautiful colorful flowers. They were for his fiance. She was on a massage table down the hall. I wondered... how long will he keep her here? How long will he need to visit this memory? For some reason, it didn't bother me too much, but that reason may have been that I never really invested in him. I walked down the hall way to have a look. It looked cold and sterile, but it felt warm. Kind of like a movie robot that has a monotone voice, but somehow shows feeling. I walked back to the reception area. There were other employees there goofing about. I saw that one of them had dropped and sullied a roll cushion from the massage table. It turns out it was my own table and cushion. I picked it up and I was disappointed to see that this new cushion was soiled beyond repair and had worn holes in it. I turned to my temporary coworker and asked..."how does someone do this? I have had this a long time and I take care of things."
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