My Dream

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Last night. Not as in, “I have a dream…,” or anything that pompous or vainglorious.

I’m getting a ride to work. This has become so commonplace for the last 2.5 weeks that I’m dreaming about it now. And remembering it. I never stinking remember my dreams. This is bad. So, anyway… I’m getting a ride to work. And it’s my dad who’s driving. So, we get up into Lexington, and suddenly Lexington is a seaport. (This is clearly my nostalgia kicking in. My father was in the Navy, and all we ever lived at were seaports.) And, we cross some bridge and realize that I’ve forgotten something and turn around to go back. We get sidetracked, and eventually I just end up not going to work. The last thing I remember is arguing with these total strangers — who I guess were my dad’s friends, even though I’d never met them — about writing an excuse for work, explaining that it was not my fault that I was absent. And the last thing that I remember was them saying, “The people at your job just want to know that you’re working. They don’t care if you’re not there everyday.”

How I wish.

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