Last night’s vivid dream placed me as a minor actor on a science-fiction television series. The show runner came in and made big announcements that we needed to create a special, kick-ass show. He was running around with hyperbolic enthusiasm that spread like kudzu.
I decided I would be part of that. Seeing him crossing a broad, carpeted room, I intercepted him and regaled him about my desire to be a part of creating this special show. He said with broad puzzlement, “Who are you?” I explained I was a minor character actor on the show but that I had ideas for it and wanted to write. Then I told him some of my ideas.
It was enough that he didn’t shrug me off or chase me out. Nor did he endorse me. But I accepted that I was now part of the writing and production team. They were having an off-site. Finding out where it was, I crashed the site.
The place was chaos. Groups were entrenched around tables. Food was being served on a buffet table. The head writer and creator was walking around talking to people, but he wasn’t talking about the show. None of them were, as far as I could tell. I circled around the tables, looking for an opening to join. A few people knew me and chatted with me. A couple even introduced me to others.
Sometimes the groups would get up and move around. Each time this happened, I thought, here we go, now maybe we’ll start. But, no. They just resettled and continued chatting. Then, weirdly to me, it looked like they were breaking for lunch. They hadn’t done anything, in my opinion. By then I felt like an outcast and was dejected by their lack of direction and energy. I decided to leave.
Some who knew me saw me leaving and started talking to me, trying to convince me not to go, but I’d made up my mind. This was clearly not my scene. I’d go elsewhere.
Leaving required me to walk up a steep hill to a pedestrian bridge. The pedestrian bridge spanned eight lanes of traffic. Businesses like restaurants, stores, and gas station bordered both sides of the road. I could see a long way from here.
Some of the people from the show caught up. Several tried to engage me. I didn’t put them off, but I wasn’t interested in their entreaties. From the top of the hill by the pedestrian bridge, I looked for where I needed to go. It seemed like miles way. I would need to walk. The sun was hot, and the traffic rushing below increased the heat. Finding my destination, I resigned myself to a long way, and began making my way.