Tag: office

The Secret Magazines Dream

I was in my mid-forties. My wife and I had decided to clean out and organize a home office space. It seemed to be a semi-detached garage. The cinder-brick walls were pale yellow, a broken concrete and dirt floor was underfoot, and there were several large windows.

We’d lived in this place for a while, but several new people had moved in, and we were becoming acquainted with other neighbors. The office had a very large bathroom, also painted yellow, with a single naked bulb hanging down in the middle. I was in there with six neighbors, all men, with the door shut, discussing people we knew in common. One very tall man — I came up to his chest — said, “Hey, do you know Hylton?” I gleefully replied, “I know Hylton, really tall guy, right?”

I asked everyone if they would leave the bathroom, questioning why we were all in there. After that, I returned to the office. The office had a pale-yellow desk and matching file cabinets and printer stand. They could have been painted from the same can of paint as the walls. I began emptying all the drawers. I was hurrying because I’d hidden Playboy Magazines from my wife in some of the drawers. I didn’t want her to find them. After emptying the drawers, I frantically raced around, trying to find a new place to hide them. What to do! What to do! I could hear her talking in the other room.

She came in. I shoved the magazines into a box and shoved it under the desk. She said, “Oh, you’ve already emptied all the drawers. Good. Let’s go through everything and decide what to keep and throw away.”

I said, “I already did that. We just need to put things away. I can do that by myself. You can go do other things.”

But she disagreed, insistently she was staying there.

A man arrived in the garage next to the office. White, in his mid-forties, he had curly coal-black hair with a matching thick beard and was wearing a blue ball cap and matching overalls. I know this because I could see him over like a sort of divider. I asked, “Who are you?”

My wife said, “This is so and so. I hired him to help us clean and organize.”

I replied, “I have this handled. We don’t need any help.”

But she ignored me, going into the garage area with the man to talk about what he could do to help.

Okay, she was out the room. I resumed my attempt to hide my magazines. There were only four, so I thought it shouldn’t be hard. Then I thought, I haven’t looked at these in years, why do I want to keep them? I also questioned, why should I have to hide them from her? But I knew the reason was that she hated Playboy because of how it sexualized and objectified women.

I quit trying to hide them. My wife entered, saw the magazines, and threw a fit. I told her I was throwing them away, but she ranted about me having them and hiding them. Shrugging that off, I went outside to check on the cats. I had two young ones and wanted to ensure they were okay. I heard a dog barking. Looking over a hedge down into the neighbor’s yard, I saw a large German Shepherd running around. Well, I needed to keep the cats in, then!

I decided to cross the street to get my mail. The street was just a narrow dirt lane but my mailbox was on the other side. A middle-aged white woman was coming down the street on a blue bicycle. I waited for her to go by, but she just drew up and stopped right before reaching me. I was incredulous; she was blocking traffic, but seemed totally indifferent. After a moment, she shifted her bike to go to the mailboxes, the same ones where I was going. A large gray truck was waiting for her to go by, and several other people were waiting, too. But she just did what she wanted, oblivious to what was going on around her. Indignant, I crossed the street to the mailbox. As I reached the other side, she pedaled away.

Dream end.

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Another Work Dream

Yes, it was another work dream, but it incorporated several twists.

To begin, I’d started a new position. A young guy, I was pleased and excited to be there. They showed me my station – ‘in the basement’. Although it was down in the lower level, it had plenty of light and my workstation was huge. Featuring an enormous semi-circle for a desk, I had a large modern monitor, new laptops, and wireless mouse. When I sat in the plush black office chair, I was enormously pleased. I was ready to go to work.

SW came to me. SW was an office manager in my RL. She came by and apologized to me for not offering me better accommodations. I laughed, replying, “Are you kidding? This is a great setup, better than my last one.” Nevertheless, she insisted that she planned to get me a better location, and she was working on it. That, to me, was a twist — an apology for what I saw as a wonderful opportunity.

Meanwhile, another young employee came by, a pale female with short dark hair. She’d been sent to take me around and personally teach me everything. The way she intoned it was loaded with sexual innuendo, instantly triggering wariness in me. The young woman was in a long-sleeved red and black top, and what seemed to be a very short skirt, and was attractive. We went about the office complex together. She stayed in my space, and I would shy back, as she introduced me to people and showed me the meeting rooms, office equipment, and files. The complex was a great, modern space. Everyone I met seemed happy and acted professional. It was all inclusive as far as race, the sexes, and ethnicity. I was pleased to be part of this enterprise.

We were soon the last ones there. SW came by to ask if we were okay locking up the place for the day. No problem, we assured her. I then struggled to remember the PIN to let me in to go back down to my office. I was stunned that I couldn’t think of it. But I realized, I could just walk around the receptionist’s space and go to it. It was strange; why was a PIN even needed when it was so easily circumvented?

My personal guide asked me if I had plans for the night. I told her that I didn’t, but maybe my wife did. She kept suggesting we could have dinner together or go have a few drinks, and I kept mentioning my wife. She finally said, “Well, I should put my pants back.” Then she stood up and started pulling on black pants.

I was aghast. “You’ve been going around in your underwear?” Yes, she answered, it’s no big deal.

The dream ended.

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An Office Dream

I had a busy, cluttered office/room. Appearing like I was in my twenties, I seemed quite content. In this dream, I was not married. I’m not sure what my work duties and responsibilities were except they involved my computer and going to meetings. I lived on campus but sometimes had to drive to another part for work. None of my co-workers were recognized as RL people.

On this very busy day, I was wearing black jeans and a black shirt. Packing up my laptop, I drove across the campus for a meeting. When I came out, I discovered a friendly co-worker had put a black collar and leash on a young woman. The leash was tied to something. Pretty, with white skin, dark hair, in her early twenties she was dressed in a revealing two-piece outfit with black boots.

I was appalled and spoke with her. How did this happen? Who did this? I told her, I can help get you out. The collar had a key; I had a key that would work for it back in my room. I explained to her, the collar wasn’t a collar but was designed and used for something else. If she went with me, I could unlock her. Conversely, I could go, get the key, come back and unlock her.

We decided to go to my room. We walked and were there in a dream flash. She told me when she got there that she wasn’t going into my room, but she was going to walk around and show everyone what my co-worker did to her. Fair enough. I would get the key and find her.

I entered my room. My desk and stuff were gone. A different desk was in its place, along with a plush, black leather chair. A tall man and woman, both Caucasians, were there, along with a third man. The woman wore white with gold jewelry. The man wore black and had tattoos on his face and short black hair.

I exploded. “Where’s my desk? Where’s my stuff? Who did this?”

At first, the others ignored me. The third man said they didn’t know who had decided anything and didn’t know what had happened to my stuff. The tall man chided me for saying that it was ‘my room and stuff’ because, really, it belonged to the company. I took exception, because the furniture and space belonged to the company, but my personal effects and clothing were gone.

Someone suggested where my stuff was. I went there and found it. I didn’t like the change. Someone said it was a promotion, but I didn’t accept that. It seemed a lot like my original room, but I didn’t like how it’d been changed without telling me first.

Meanwhile, I found the key, went out, and tracked down the young woman. It was a very busy circular place, with many projects going on, and it took me a few minutes to find her. She was walking about, loudly telling all, look what so-and-so did because he thought it was funny. I unlocked her, then mentioned that I’d forgotten my car on the other side of the campus and needed to go get it, if she wanted to walk over there with me. She agreed. An older woman called me over. She asked me if I’d made a contract with the woman with the collar. When I answered no, she told me that I need to make such a contract to explore her emotions and ensure she’s okay after this incident. I agreed to do that.

A bunch of us set out walking, including the previously collared woman. I fell in with the tall man in black and the tall woman in white. Talking with them, I recognized them as minor celebrities. We were going to see a parade; they’d been part of the parade the previous year. They told me they were part of it this year, too, and invited me to join.

Veering off to find my car, I ended up in an auditorium on company business where I met another tall man. Seated in front of me in a plush auditorium, I realized that he’d been with the tall man and woman the previous year. He congratulated me on my powers of observation and keen memory, and then gave me his card. I hurried away because I still hadn’t picked up my car.

Going under cement culverts along street roads, I rejoined the people walking toward the parade route, including the previously collared woman. I broached the subject of the contract with her. She immediately told me she wanted nothing to do with that because she thought them a waste of time. I was relieved because I agreed.

At this point, I was in my underwear, bikini briefs. I didn’t mind because I was slender and muscular. I noticed a number of young, trim, muscular women also dressed only in underwear. I decided that I was going to skip the parade because I still needed to get my car.

The dream ended.

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The NASA Job Dream

I’d come to work in my car, a glossy black Porsche 911. It’s a vintage model from the early 70s. My job was with NASA, and I wore a black suit with a vest to work.

The work complex was bustling and enormous, featuring sleek trains to transport people around the campus. I went up an elevator to my office. It wasn’t huge, about fourteen by fourteen feet, with a desk, some plants, and standard office furniture. Pleasant, modern, functional. But, I shared it with another person. He had it during the night, and it was mine in the day.

My car had gone through some kind of mess enroute to work, and I was dismayed by its state. A man came along and told me he could detail my car while I worked. That was fine with me and I agreed. Going into the office, I discovered that my job was being terminated. A friend and co-worker came by and told me that I could find another job somewhere in the organization and encouraged me to take a walk through the halls to see what came up. Other workers greeted me friendly. They’d heard the news that I needed a new position. I stopped by an office that had three large letters in gold above the arched doorway where a large, jolly man told me to come in and see him. Going on, we stopped by another office where a second man mentioned that I’d promised him to come by before, and encouraged me to visit with him about a position. A third man encountered at a different office said the same.

My friend and I headed back to the office. He was clapping me on the back, telling me, “See? I told you you’d find another job.” I agreed and felt much better. It was about the end of the work day so he went off to go home. I went to find my car.

It was still being worked on but he’d done a great job. I had to hang around the office complex while I waited. Meanwhile, a friend of his came by and asked me if I had a bar. I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I thought it was bar, and replied that I didn’t have a bar but one was available nearby. They became excited and asked if they could use it. I was perplexed; sure, of course. The friend hurried off and came back in a minute with a wad of cash, which he proffered to me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Money for the bar.”

Conversation to clarify what was meant ensued. I realized what I heard as ‘bar’ was ‘badge’. They wanted to use my badge to enter the building. “No, no, I can’t do that,” I said. “It’s illegal and a security breach.”

The friend went away, irritated and disappointed. My car was done. I was charged $300. It was more than I’d expected but I paid. I was then ready to go home. But I had all these things that I’d brought with me. They couldn’t fit into the car. I don’t know what this stuff was, but I’d apparently been carrying it around.

Aha, I thought. I’ll take it to my office. I went up there. The guy who uses it at night had a meeting going on. Well, just had to interrupt. I stepped in, apologizing, telling them that I was the one who used the office in the day and I had some stuff to put in it. Mock boos rained over me but they laughed as it was done. I laughed, waved good-bye, and left the office to go home.

Dream end.

1

The Computer Painting Dream

It began like I was in one of my previous professions. At work, I received a phone call. A customer was having problems with his computer security. Well, those products ere being discontinued and his license keys had expired. Nonetheless, I cut new keys for him, directed him to a site to download them, and walked him through reinstallation. This is a process that would’ve taken some time but in dreamland, it was just a few minutes. Also, my dream office was much nicer and impressive than my real digs. It all seemed so sharp, it could’ve been real time.

The CEO came by. We chatted, and then drifted in opposite directions to new meetings. In my meeting, we were preparing to paint. Friends entered with the tablets. We stretched them out into large electronic canvases Then we painted on the screens. The tablets absorbed it, becoming a malleable medium. My painting was a large portrait of a blond woman in a yellow dress juggling tangerines.

Chinese food was brought in. We stopped to eat and talk about our work. A nearby young woman had been complaining about her finger. I told her to show me. She stuck out a blackened pinky.

“Your blood isn’t flowing,” I said. “Get me a needle and bowl.”

Holding onto her finger, I pricked her and squeezed her finger. Thick, black drops that behaved like mercury fell into the bowl. After doing that for about twenty seconds, her finger was normal.

End dream.

 

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