I had the weirdest, most intense dream last night. I was at work (but not quite; you know how dreams are), and my boss Andrew was there, as was the rest of Lockbox, I think. Somehow, Andrew had been infected with some sort of fatal virus / infestation / disease, one that we knew killed swiftly, horribly and painfully. (No, it’s not a revenge dream…) I don’t recall how we knew he had it, or where he’d gotten it, though I think he’d stepped in it somewhere. We all knew about it, anyway, and how it ate the flesh of the victim within minutes of becoming active. The skin would turn pitch black, starting from wherever the infection had begun — wherever the victim had first touched the blackness to become infected in the first place. (It reminds me a little of the black oil in the X-Files, but not quite.)
Like I said, we all knew Andrew was infected. We stood around him, kind of keeping our distance, and he leaned on one of the desks, feigning lightheartedness. Tension was high, not only because we knew he was about to die before our eyes, but because we didn’t want to become infected ourselves.
We could see the tendrilly waves of blackness creeping around his shoes. (Apparently the virus consumed clothing, too…) Before they got much farther, though, Andrew leaned out toward me, careful to keep his feet back away and clear of me… and puckered up for a goodbye kiss. And, strangely enough, I obliged. Just a peck, mind you, and just a friendly one, like you’d give a relative, but on the lips. This seemed appropriate in the dream, like a final farewell.
A few moments later, Andrew slumped to the floor, still conscious, but in pain. He half-leaned against the desk, half-lay on the floor, and we were aware of the blackness beginning to overtake his ankles. He screamed, and his hands became taut claws of pain. Then I screamed and started to cry, because I was witnessing his death — at which point he stopped screaming and said, "No, no, I’m just kidding. It’s really not that bad yet." And he relaxed a bit and grinned up at us.
I was relieved by not yet witnessing his gory death, though a little peeved at his melodrama, but I was still tense and shaking. A few seconds later, I saw that the virus was moving up his legs, and he wasn’t faking anymore, and I screamed again, looking away and bracing myself on a table.
Before the virus overtook his entire body, though, I either woke up or shifted to a new dream. I may even have the sequence of events mixed up. At any rate, I didn’t stay in the dream long enough to actually witness Andrew’s death, which is good.
I’ve gotta tell you, though, when I woke up this morning, I was tense and stiff and my eyes were crusty, like I’d been crying in my sleep. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a dream that intense. The image of him writhing and screaming on the floor is still burned into my head, and has been all day… which made it that much more interesting to work right next to him all day, while he was subbing for Loni, who’s on vacation this week. After seeing Andrew almost die in my dream, I think it made me that much nicer to him today, because I was glad he was alive in real life.
What strikes me most, thinking back on the dream, is: 1.) I was the only one screaming. At Halloween, by the way, the entire office had agreed that they knew I wasn’t a "screamer." The others in the dream seemed grossed out, piteous toward Andrew, and concerned about their own safety, but none grieved openly as I did. 2.) I was the only one Andrew made a parting gesture toward. Sure, it was my dream, but he didn’t even offer any kind of goodbyes, except the kiss to me.
Usually I can figure out what a dream is about, but I’m not sure about this one. There’s only one thing I can think that it might be related to, which brings me to my next topic.
Remember how I said I had three job leads outside Sky and one within? Well… I got the one within! w00t! I’m starting December 1st, and I’ll be working 8am to 5pm, no weekends, with a buck fifty pay increase. Hell, yeah. It sounds like I’m moving up from general flunky to cubicle rat; I’ll be searching reports and documents for bank clients’ missing information, like SSN, address, birthdate, etc, as required by the Patriot Act. Could suck, but could also be better than what I’m doing now. Hell, with such a pay jump, I’d be content, anyway, I think.
So, I suppose that crazy dream could have been my brain reacting to me leaving Lockbox shorthanded, somehow.
Next chapter: I received an e-mail this evening from HCR Manor Care, asking when I would be available for a phone interview. Keep in mind, this gig sounded pretty sweet: interviewing subject matter experts; writing, editing, and structuring web content; audio/video production; and graphic design. Right up my alley, I do believe. So, I’ll go through with the phone interview, but I’ll sure feel like a dick if I have to back out of the new job at Sky because I got a better deal somewhere else. Especially since I told my new boss in my interview that "I want to stay with Sky." Riiiight…
Soo… I’m going to hope for a phone interview either during my lunch Monday or after work Tuesday, since I don’t exactly want to do a phone interview at my desk in the midst of other employees. Were I in a cubicle or office, sure, but not in the middle of Lockbox.
The way I’m looking at things, I don’t have to sweat these other interviews now. I do best when I don’t get all worked up about it, when I kind of psych myself out of ever actually having the job and just relax and enjoy the interview. At least, it seems that way at the time, I guess. — No, I take that back. I know that’s how it is, because that’s how I got the Patriot job. 🙂 Either that, or they had some real slim pickins for candidates…
Anyway, before I psych myself out of any more jobs, I’m going to stop rambling.