The Management Dream

I dreamed I was in upper middle management with a large, international corporation. I was part of a team, and we’d just realized that we’d made a huge mistake. I don’t know what the mistake was, but major negative career, environmental, and economic ramifications were expected as a result of our decision and the corporation’s subsequent actions. It was going to affect the company’s stock price, bottom line, and people’s employment.

Worried, we were having meetings to work out what we could to do save ourselves and mitigate the impacts that we were projecting. I began developing an idea. As I explored it, I was uncomfortable with the moral and ethical side of it, because it meant sacrificing someone by using them as the fall guy. It would save my career, along with many others, and reduce the economic impact, but at a cost to my principles. I didn’t like that.

While exploring that option, I called and visited others, searching for another way. As that happened, I ran into the person who would be the fall guy. They were a young, positive, and optimistic person. They’d realized that blaming them would go a long way to helping many others, and was essentially volunteering to do that. “I’m young,” he said. “I’ll rebound.”

I was dubious. I didn’t want to be convinced. I felt his youth and inexperience was making him over-optimistic. Basically, as the dream progressed, the rest of the management team and this individual put the burden of decision on me.

Back in the building where I worked, I sat in a meeting with the rest of the management team. The agenda was about other things, and not this crises. They were speaking in low voices. I was by myself at the end of a long conference table. I was aware that they sometimes glanced my way. I was aware that they awaited my decision.

I decided. Placing a call on a cell phone, I told the person on the other end, “I have a way out.” I knew I was sacrificing the volunteer. I knew it would work. I didn’t like it.

Hearing me on the phone, other team members began passing on the word that I’d decided. Relief flowed through the room like water.

Turning away, I spoke on the phone and put the plan in action.

The end.

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The Tale of the Tail

You ever think, what if humans had tails that stuck out of our clothing? Ever think about how our tails might form our self-image and be part of our cultural landscape, or how your tail would appear? Can you imagine how our tails might give us away by their aspect?

“He said he wasn’t interested in her, but that’s not what his tail said. It was straight up.”

The Time Thing

Holy moly, writers, do you grok that it’s already¬†April? March flashed by like the Flash (copyright DC Comics) in a super hurry, which sums up how 2018 is speeding by for me.

I know some of this phenomena of time speeding past is because I keep busy, writing and editing every day. A full schedule keeps me from contemplating too much of the present. Compounding this is how I live in my novels. I’m much more aware of my characters’ timelines and how they’re living their lives than my timeline and how I’m living my own.

That doesn’t bother me. I come up for a daily gulp of reality. Reality is not as much fun as fiction. Then, who said life is about being fun, right? Life is about surviving and procreating, right?

No, life is what you make it. I’m making mine into a writer’s life. I’ll probably pause someday, many books written, and wonder, what happened to the time? I’ll know, but I’ll still present the rhetorical query to myself, because that’s my mental and emotional construction.

Then again, this could be one of many universes where I exist, and when I die, all my selves will come together (cue the Beatles tune, or the Aerosmith cover, if that’s more to your taste) and compare notes. Maybe my other selves will hear about my writing life, and tell me how much they envy me, because I chose to live my life as I wanted. Others will probably chastise me for being selfish. Oh, well, you can’t please all your selves all the time. Best to quickly accept that and move on.

Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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