I had a dream… but in MY dream…

I’ve been having unusual dreams lately. I don’t know why or what might be causing them- it happens from time to time. They’re rarely nightmares or scary things, thankfully, and usually do not make any kind of sense, so I don’t try to interpret them. I just accept them as my weird little brain finding an outlet while the rest of me is shut down in rest mode.

6a00d83451614969e200e54f5d8a5d8833-350wiMy favorite one recently was the morning I woke up laughing and had to tell Brett that I’d dreamed about something called FASHION LEEK. Fashion Leek is a garden-variety leek who works as a style reporter covering New York Fashion Week. She’d be dressed up in the most ridiculous of the latest trends and run around the city in impractical high heels while trying to get interviews with the fashion cognoscenti, in spite of the fact that she wasn’t invited to a single show. Somehow, through sheer determination and grit (!) she’d manage to snag an interview with Anna Wintour, who would spend the whole time dabbing at her burning, watering eyes with a handkerchief, yet still graciously answering questions, impressed by Leek’s chutzpah.  In spite of Leek’s odor, Anna would still 41F03q-HmDL._SX342_prefer Fashion Leek to Kanye and Kim.

And then this morning, I dreamed I was at work, facing an impossibly long list of tasks and our office manager came to me and said, “Well, it’s finally official so I have permission to finally tell you the big news.” And she drew it out like a cat playing with a dead chipmunk while I’m sitting there fuming about all the stuff I have to get done that I’m not getting done while she teases me with this big news. Before long, other office staff have gathered behind her, all grinning wildly and practically jumping up and down with excitement.

The news? The not-for-profit retirement community where I work was bought by Marriott, who would be adding rooms to include a youth hostel and a kitten shelter, in addition to our senior apartments and assisted living. In the dream, as my coworkers cheered and laughed and hugged each other, I stood there with my jaw dropped, my mind spinning over all the repercussions of going from not-for-profit to excited faces for-profit status and how the hell were we going to accommodate all those kittens? (The kids from the youth hostel apparently did not worry me.)

I finally asked my coworkers, “How on earth can you think this is a good thing?” To which they all replied, “We get cookies now!” holding up wax paper sleeves with the Marriott logo printed on the front, a large chocolate chip cookie peeking out from the folds. As I try to formulate an answer to this, I see a guy just past them at the entrance, ushering kittens out of an eno5dc00b4ffc67ea56d202f2251eaf1e3armous truck in through the front door, where they just take off and scatter wildly throughout the building. Hundreds of kittens, just crawling the halls. And then I woke up.

I’m a little nervous to go back to work Monday.


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