Saturday, September 3, 2016

Dream Log: Office Life

I dreamed I hung out and did various things in an office of some kind, in a drab and ugly building in a scruffy neighborhood. The walls in the office had that sort of paneling made of wood pulp and covered with fake wood-grain which was popular in some circles decades ago. I stood at a counter and filled out a form. It was not clear whether I was applying for a job or had already gotten one, and needed to fill out the form before I began work. In any case, soon I was working: I went back behind the counter into a warren of hallways and rooms, all with the same ugly paneling on the walls. I was sent to a room which had ugly light-green carpet wall-to-wall and no windows, and was empty except for one chair. One of the room's walls consisted of little more than the paneling, and I was able to pick it up and slide it aside and look back out into the lobby, at a ninety-degree angle away from the counter where I had filled out the form. I looked at the lobby's exterior wall, dingy glass with a dingy glass door, one hundred and eighty degrees away from the dingy glass door through which I had entered.

I was looking out of this room because I was a spy of some sort now. A spy on behalf of the company in the building, not spying on them for someone else. But it didn't seem that much spy work was expected of me. It seemed to be a rather do-nothing bureaucratic job.

Next, breakfast was being prepared for the employees in the building. We gathered in a large room which was serving as a dining area. A young man was rushing around taking orders. I got a plain bagel, toasted. It was a good bagel, the kind which seems to be very rare outside of NYC. At my request the man set a dish of butter and a jar of grape jelly on the table next to me.

A beautiful woman was standing next to where I was sitting, looking hungry, having a bit of trouble getting the young man's attention so she could order breakfast. She and I had known each other for a while. She sat down and looked at the half of my bagel still on my plate as I ate the other half. She looked as if she was about to timidly ask if she could have a bite, and I said, "Help yourself. please." She took a bite, and muttered thanks with her mouth full, and I gave her a sideways hug and a kiss on the cheek and added, "In fact, just to be clear: as long as I live, you may have a bite of what I'm eating. As many bites as you want. You can have the whole thing. And you never have to ask first." She swallowed and said, "Same goes for you and whatever I'm eating."

We ate for a while in silence. She finally got the waiter's attention and ordered an omelette. Then we were silent again for a while. Then, almost at exactly the same time, we said to each other, "Fridges too!" "Yes," I added, "feel free to raid any fridge I ever have." She nodded and waved her forefinger back and forth between us, indicating that that, too, went both ways. "I love you," I said, and I woke up.

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