Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I may have been working, standing amid aisles of shelves, like shelves in a store. There were a few other people with me. There were one wall of shelves and display racks and then a series of aisles perpendicular to the wall. I stood staring at the wall of shelves. Something like clear, plastic packets full of papers and study materials hung from the display racks on the wall.
We had to do something like sort papers or make sure that papers were in the right places. This all may have had to do with studies we were doing for reports, like dissertations, each of us was writing. But one of my co-workers thought he had put one of the papers in the wrong place. He was now completely upset and panicking.
I knew that the panicking co-worker was the pop artist Prince. I went to go talk to him, to assure him that everything was alright. I turned away from the wall and walked down one of the aisles. I then turned left and up another aisle, the shelves of which were full of salty snacks, like potato chips and onion rings. Prince was just walking down the aisle. He had long, black, disheveled hair and a thin mustache. He wore a purple bodysuit with a steep, v-necked, lapeled collar that opened all the way down to his sternum.
I knew what Prince had done. I knew he'd thought he'd organized something in an incorrect way. He probably had organized something in an unusual way. But he hadn't necessarily done it the wrong way. I called out to Prince, telling him to calm down, that everything was cool.
I held out my fist, so Prince could tap his fist's knuckles against mine, to show me he understood he was cool. I noticed that Prince had a gold ring on his middle finger. The design of the ring was a gold disc with an upward-pointing pentagram inside of it.
I was now off to the left of the aisles, past an empty gap of floor space, kneeling at the end cap of another aisle. On a low shelf was a tray of meats and cheeses. I picked up some slices of turkey. I tried to pick up slices of Swiss cheese as well. But the slices were so stuck together that I could only tear off fragments. I began laying the fragments down on the slices of turkey. I was going to roll the cheese and turkey together and eat these little turkey roll-ups.
As I did this I could hear someone like a supervisor speaking from the far end of the aisles. The supervisor (probably a woman, but maybe a man) was telling everybody that if they'd done interviews with professors from universities, they were not to treat the paperwork from those interviews the same as if the paperwork for the interviews with people in commercial fields. This had something to do with the fact that professors were, for my co-workers, more than just interview subjects. They were also potential professional contacts.
But someone was continuing to put the professor paperwork into stacks with other paperwork, even as the supervisor was talking. The supervisor kept repeating, "Keep the paperwork separate! Keep the paperwork separate!" The supervisor's voice became more and more insistent. It was like the supervisor was getting more and more urgent and annoyed, but also like the supervisor was becoming more and more convinced that the person working was really too stupid to understand the command.
I felt bad for the person getting chastised. I knew the person wasn't stupid. I even had the feeling that the person was actually doing things correctly. I thought the supervisor may have been too impatient to see that the worker was following directions, just in a different way.
Showing posts with label misdirection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misdirection. Show all posts
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
design subway; friend's boss sneaks up
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was on a subway train in New York City. The train was only partly filled with people. A young woman on the train was trying to figure out the stop she could get off at. She was speaking with a thin, black woman in her thirties.
The young woman kept saying, "Design! Design!" a bit urgently, like she was afraid she couldn't be heard.
The black woman probably kept saying, "8th Street. 8th Street."
The black woman told the young woman to get out at a certain stop, which the young woman probably did. I got off, too, not because I needed to get off there, but because I wanted to make sure the woman found her way okay. The subway station was probably supposed to be the Union Square station. It felt like it. It was really crowded, and I could barely see anything.
I thought back to what the black woman had said. I'd figured she'd been right. By "design," I figured the young woman must have meant the Cooper Union school. That was down on 8th Street. So the young woman would have to get off the train here, then transfer to another train down to 8th Street.
The woman was still wandering around near me, a bit confused. She seemed like she didn't want to believe what the black woman had told her. So I went up to the woman and told her that she should get on the next local train on the platform we were on, then go down to 8th Street.
I thought this over a bit more and realized that maybe I was wrong. The train line we were on would drop the woman off a couple blocks west of where she wanted to be. But there was another train arriving, a 6-train, on the opposite platform. That would drop her of right in front of the Cooper Union.
I quickly told the woman, "Run over there! You can still catch it!" The woman ran up the stairs from this platform, over to the other platform. I kept watching the doors of the 6-train, hoping they wouldn't close.
As the woman ran down the stairs, I noticed her clothes for the first time. Her clothes seemed a bit like little girls' clothes. She wore a small, turquoise colored skirt, a white shirt, and canvas shoes with really thick, brightly colored socks. She had pale skin and dark brown hair.
The woman actually made it to the train. But as soon as she walked in the doors, she walked out quickly. She seemed a little bothered by something on the train. A few people were also getting off the train with the woman. They all seemed a little disturbed. I wondered what could have upset them. I imagined that a dead body was just lying on the train.
By this time I had wandered up a small staircase, only two or three steps tall, that actually crossed over the tracks and across to the opposite platform. I realized I could have told the woman about this staircase, instead of having her run all the way up, over, and down. But now I looked over to my right. The woman was coming back toward me. She said that that train had actually been the wrong one. I realized she was right.
I was now up above ground, having at some point walked up the steps from the station. It was night. I was out in some kind of plaza area, which was only dimly lit by orange streetlamps. I sat down on a long bench. My good friend H stood before me. There were a few other people around us.
I started asking H, who is Japanese, about some Japanese words. I told her about a song the words were in. H seemed very interested in the song (she never is interested in waking life). H actually started quoting some lines she thought I might not be aware of. They included "ai no" and "omou," but I forget the rest.
We then discussed some line in a song that went something like "kogomiru moromiru mou." I wasn't familiar with any of those words. I was pretty sure I'd never heard them before.
Dream #2
I was at work. I was in "my cubicle," which was actually the cubicle facing my cubicle in waking life. My old friend MK was in my waking life cubicle. He was with a female friend of his. The rest of the office seemed to be completely empty.
MK was complaining about his boss, who was actually someone from my job IWL, JP. MK complained that JP was always coming up with useless projects for him to do, just to keep him working. MK's friend giggled and asked MK if he wasn't worried about talking bad about his boss.
MK replied with a big long speech to show he wasn't afraid of his boss hearing what he had to say. He then imitated what his boss would say if he'd ever heard MK talking bad about him. Part of this imitation included some statement about how the boss seldom even showed up on Mondays but how, when he did, he was always really late.
As MK was giving this speech, I saw his boss, JP, sneaking around to MK's cubicle from the opposite side. My view actually seemed to follow JP all the way around, until he reached MK's cubicle. Then my view stopped, and it was like I was laying on the floor, or sitting on the floor, like a little kid would.
But I knew that JP had reached MK as soon as MK had gotten to making fun of JP for never coming in on Mondays. JP tried to surprise MK. But MK caught JP. MK said something like, "Ah! You caught me talking bad about you!" in some kind of falsetto-whiny voice to show that, even though he felt bad for talking bad, he still didn't think it was a big deal, and he still wasn't worried about anything JP might do to him.
Dream #1
I was on a subway train in New York City. The train was only partly filled with people. A young woman on the train was trying to figure out the stop she could get off at. She was speaking with a thin, black woman in her thirties.
The young woman kept saying, "Design! Design!" a bit urgently, like she was afraid she couldn't be heard.
The black woman probably kept saying, "8th Street. 8th Street."
The black woman told the young woman to get out at a certain stop, which the young woman probably did. I got off, too, not because I needed to get off there, but because I wanted to make sure the woman found her way okay. The subway station was probably supposed to be the Union Square station. It felt like it. It was really crowded, and I could barely see anything.
I thought back to what the black woman had said. I'd figured she'd been right. By "design," I figured the young woman must have meant the Cooper Union school. That was down on 8th Street. So the young woman would have to get off the train here, then transfer to another train down to 8th Street.
The woman was still wandering around near me, a bit confused. She seemed like she didn't want to believe what the black woman had told her. So I went up to the woman and told her that she should get on the next local train on the platform we were on, then go down to 8th Street.
I thought this over a bit more and realized that maybe I was wrong. The train line we were on would drop the woman off a couple blocks west of where she wanted to be. But there was another train arriving, a 6-train, on the opposite platform. That would drop her of right in front of the Cooper Union.
I quickly told the woman, "Run over there! You can still catch it!" The woman ran up the stairs from this platform, over to the other platform. I kept watching the doors of the 6-train, hoping they wouldn't close.
As the woman ran down the stairs, I noticed her clothes for the first time. Her clothes seemed a bit like little girls' clothes. She wore a small, turquoise colored skirt, a white shirt, and canvas shoes with really thick, brightly colored socks. She had pale skin and dark brown hair.
The woman actually made it to the train. But as soon as she walked in the doors, she walked out quickly. She seemed a little bothered by something on the train. A few people were also getting off the train with the woman. They all seemed a little disturbed. I wondered what could have upset them. I imagined that a dead body was just lying on the train.
By this time I had wandered up a small staircase, only two or three steps tall, that actually crossed over the tracks and across to the opposite platform. I realized I could have told the woman about this staircase, instead of having her run all the way up, over, and down. But now I looked over to my right. The woman was coming back toward me. She said that that train had actually been the wrong one. I realized she was right.
I was now up above ground, having at some point walked up the steps from the station. It was night. I was out in some kind of plaza area, which was only dimly lit by orange streetlamps. I sat down on a long bench. My good friend H stood before me. There were a few other people around us.
I started asking H, who is Japanese, about some Japanese words. I told her about a song the words were in. H seemed very interested in the song (she never is interested in waking life). H actually started quoting some lines she thought I might not be aware of. They included "ai no" and "omou," but I forget the rest.
We then discussed some line in a song that went something like "kogomiru moromiru mou." I wasn't familiar with any of those words. I was pretty sure I'd never heard them before.
Dream #2
I was at work. I was in "my cubicle," which was actually the cubicle facing my cubicle in waking life. My old friend MK was in my waking life cubicle. He was with a female friend of his. The rest of the office seemed to be completely empty.
MK was complaining about his boss, who was actually someone from my job IWL, JP. MK complained that JP was always coming up with useless projects for him to do, just to keep him working. MK's friend giggled and asked MK if he wasn't worried about talking bad about his boss.
MK replied with a big long speech to show he wasn't afraid of his boss hearing what he had to say. He then imitated what his boss would say if he'd ever heard MK talking bad about him. Part of this imitation included some statement about how the boss seldom even showed up on Mondays but how, when he did, he was always really late.
As MK was giving this speech, I saw his boss, JP, sneaking around to MK's cubicle from the opposite side. My view actually seemed to follow JP all the way around, until he reached MK's cubicle. Then my view stopped, and it was like I was laying on the floor, or sitting on the floor, like a little kid would.
But I knew that JP had reached MK as soon as MK had gotten to making fun of JP for never coming in on Mondays. JP tried to surprise MK. But MK caught JP. MK said something like, "Ah! You caught me talking bad about you!" in some kind of falsetto-whiny voice to show that, even though he felt bad for talking bad, he still didn't think it was a big deal, and he still wasn't worried about anything JP might do to him.
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