The Box of Clothes Dream

It was Friday, just after noon. Dressed in casual work clothes, I was walking through bright and airy offices. It could’ve easily been one of the new buildings from one of my employers in Redwood City and Mountain View, CA, or Atlanta, GA.

Two parties were planned. One was to fete a team project, and the other was a birthday party. Although the parties started here, it was understood that the parties would continue elsewhere. Visiting with friendly co-workers, I decided to change clothes. Producing a box, I put on my workout clothes.

I now looked just like I did in high school. Tables were set up and food was arriving. I walked along eyeing it. A vast assortment of fruit and veggie trays were arrayed, along with cookies. One set of cookies were shaped like hearts and outlined in pink, red, or white glitter. The cookies were on sticks and arranged as a bouquet in a red glass vase.

I declined to eat anything for the moment. Then, abruptly, I worried, where’s my box of clothes? I asked several people if they’d seen it: no. I thought I’d left it in the hall. Then I recalled where I placed it.

Rushing down a flight of stairs, I went to a corner. There was my box. I picked it up and opened it, confirming that everything was in it.

Music began. I realized the song was “All Night Long (All Night)” by Lionel Richie. Someone said that he was there. Some people began dancing.

The dream ended.

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.

 

Some Dream Highlights

Such a strange, long dream.

At one point, I let a little pet mouse out of the bathroom into the rain. Yellow walls and a naked yellow light, decrepit age, and a sloping dirt floor defined the bathroom. I didn’t want to let the little mouse out. I knew it was storming and night, unsafe conditions, to me. I didn’t know what the mouse knew. Letting him out with regret, I vowed to check on him.

Then, dreamshift, I was at work, a new job with a familiar feel. A new boss arrived. Others were at work at clusters of desks. I was shown a desk that was to be mine but decided to find and reclaim my previous place, which I then did. I cleaned it, finding old stuff of mine. Sorting it, I decided what to keep and toss. Then, speaking with a female co-worker, I re-oriented my desk to watch the front door. I told her that I wanted to see what was going on. She agreed that was the best way to face.

My mail was delivered. It was a lot but not as much as I expected. Off I went to find the rest. As I began, the office administrator arrived with a large bundle of mail for me.

Now, dreamshift again, I was leaving with my wife to return to our hotel. First, I went back to the yellow bathroom and pulled open the door. The little mouse hurried in from the rain with a grateful look my way.

My wife and I were walking through a large market on the way back to the hotel. Then she said, “I want to get something.” I asked her what. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me to mill around.

Friends in the military came by, heading to the marshalling area to deploy. I was happy to see them. Walking with them, I told them about changes in the area because they weren’t aware. Breaking off as they arrived at their destination, I joined up with my wife. She was still shopping. Like before, I asked her what she was after. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me with a commiserating shop owner. I decided to continue to the hotel instead of waiting.

Dream end.

 

The Broken Glass Dream

At the dream’s beginning, I groaned; not another military dream.

No, it isn’t, my mind rebutted. It dawned on me in the dream that I wasn’t in the military but many people were wearing uniforms.

I was heading to work with tons of other folks. I wore a light blue shirt and dark blue pants, which reminded me of my Air Force uniform, but I saw that it wasn’t. Somehow, I was first to leave and head off. A herd followed me.

I rounded a corner and stopped at a stone wall. Everyone else drew up. Checking the time, I explained, “It’s not opened yet. It’ll open in a moment.”

The wall drew aside, revealing a tunnel. Stepping forward, I drove in a car on a heavily-traveled highway, and then stepped into a busy, busy office.

While greeting others and exchanging banter, I searched for my schedule. Where was I supposed to be today? What was I supposed to be today? I’d just found my schedule and was reviewing it when the boss (a middle-aged bald guy) pulled me aside to go on a special assignment with a woman.

I resisted and complained. I was supposed to be doing something else. The change annoyed me. Boss insisted, though. The woman, who is sketchy and never clearly seen, was ignoring me, irritating me more.

Capitulating, I entered a doorway. Followed by the woman, I went up steps into a control room. It was in a giant Godzilla robot head. Guided by the woman, I began driving and controlling the huge machine.

We marched through a city, looking down on everyone. It seemed like we were just checking things, confirming that everything was going as it was supposed to be.

Shift ended, I stepped into a crowded bar. I thought it was, then saw that it was a communal home. I had a large slushy raspberry-colored drink but the glass broke. The drink contents hung in my hand without a glass. It started to slop apart, but I caught it and kept it together

I moved to set this aside while trying to catch the glass shards. They fell into a stream of fast-moving water that ran through the giant living room.

Our mother, an elderly woman, turned up, demanding to know whose drink that was hanging in the air. I told her that it was mine, that the glass had broke, and the pieces had fallen into the water. I wanted to go after the pieces. Other people said, “No, don’t worry about it,” but Mother said that she was worried about the glass in the water because others might step on it and get hurt.

Agreeing, I stepped into the water. Very warm, it carried me down to a clear, calm pool. Nobody else was present. Stopping there, I looked into the water and found the pieces.

Dream end.

The Pants Dream

Yep, here we go, another pants dream.

It began with being at work. I was settling into a new place. It was an open work space. The CEO, who seemed to like me a great deal, was showing me around the place and introducing me to others.

He showed me my work space. Big desk, computer, etc., off to one side of everyone else, besides some steps that went up to a loft area where there were more work spaces. After he told me my assignments, he left. I got to work and finished very quickly. I then began hunting something else to do. Walking around the place, I had a sense that I didn’t belong. After a bit of that, I ventured to visit with the CEO to express that.

Busy with clients, he couldn’t see me right then, but I told his assistant that I didn’t think I was the right fit. She told me not to do anything, be patient, and she’d pass the message on, and then the CEO would speak with me.

I told another friendly co-worker that I didn’t think I fit. He tried to convince me that I did, but really lacked any solid points.

My wife arrived to see if I could go to lunch. Yes, I could, but I needed to change my clothes. I was in shorts. Thinking myself underdressed, I wanted to put on pants.

I’d brought some pants with me to the office. The first pair were dirty, so I didn’t try them on. I had fewer pants than I expected, and than spent some time looking for more. It came down to two pairs of pants. One fit perfectly but wasn’t a style or color that I liked because they were too different. White, tight, with narrow legs, they had diagonal black stripes. I was surprised that they were mine. The next pair were too large but I liked the style. I realized, though, since the first pair fit, I could put them on, and then wear the second pair of pants over them. Then I found a favorite shirt and put that on.

That combination seemed to work. I spent some time walking around, trying that out, verifying that I could move comfortably, and watching others’ reactions. I thought that others admired how I looked. Coming down the stairs from the loft, I saw a reflection of myself, and thought, yes, I look good.

I then left. It was lightly sprinkling outside. The CEO was at a table with clients under an awning. He called me over and introduced me to them, enthusing about me, which embarrassed me. I left to meet my wife.

There was a row of stores and cafes. She was supposed to be waiting for me outside. I figured that since I’d taken so long, she’d probably gone on to a store to kill time. I would check them until I found her.

I was checking the first one when she came in, finding me. As we were talking, she was telling me that she’d run into one of my new co-workers. As she was telling me that, he came in and asked  if he could join us for lunch. We said, sure, and went off.

Later (with a dreamshift), my wife had gone. It was growing darker, with daylight fading and lights coming on. My co-worker and I were walking back toward the business. As we were, we saw a party going on and remembered that it was an office party. He went right up and in, urging me to follow. I declined. He said he was just stopping for a few minutes. I decided that I’d wait outside, just past the entrance, and leaned back against the wall.

The party broke up a short time later. My co-worker came out. He joined me, chatting, asking me why I hadn’t gone inside. I told him that I didn’t think that I belonged. As we were talking, another co-worker was striding by below us. Seeing us, he came up the steps and handed me a cup.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s for you,” he answered.

“Why?”

“I thought you needed it, and wanted to give it to you.”

I felt flattered that he’d thought of me, and thanked him. He left. As he did, my friend and I began to walk. I drank from the cup that’d been given to me and discovered it was strong, sweet tea. It tasted wonderful. I began thinking, maybe I do belong here.

The dream ended.

The Football & Space Dream

Pleasurable dream. I came off as successful beyond what I expected (although others seemed to expect it) and was happy, respected, and admired. I was a hero. Isn’t that what we all want to be?

The first dream found me at a football game. I don’t know what level of playing, team names, or anything like that. A running back, I was on the sideline. It was early in the first quarter. My team was down by a touchdown. Okay, it’s early, that’s not bad, but what was demoralizing was that it didn’t look like we could do anything against their defense.

I watched the play from behind. A running draw, our big back was stuffed and lost yardage. But as I watched the play, I knew that it would be different if it me.

I told the coach. He and the others had already reached the same conclusion and sent me in. When I went in, I was doubtful. I was so much smaller. Anxiety swept me.

Then, the play was over. Back on the sidelines, I’d discovered that I’d scored on a fifty-plus yard run. What a great feeling of celebration. Then I found that it was late in the game; it was almost over. I’d scored three times. The other team hadn’t scored again. We were winning in a blow-out.

I read notes on that first scoring play, when I went in. Smaller, but fast, I was able to duck and spin past the initial rush. Then, according to a guard, “Seidel used him like a lawn mower, pushing me ahead of him down the field and mowing down anything in his way.”

Reading that felt great.

Now, it was off to work. I worked in a space operations center alongside engineers, admin people, radar trackers, etc. I was a high-level position. There was a crises. People were waiting for me to arrive. They believed I could resolve it.

I went right to work. Although my desk was at the front, by the status boards and maps, I worked the room from end to end and side to side, talking with everyone, taking notes, making and taking phone calls, and issuing decisions. The crises was resolved but we stayed busy. I consulted with the engineers over a few things. They were always eager to show me what they were doing.

Some were ending their shift and going for food. I was invited but declined. Others decided that a food run was in order. One scientist held up a script of paper. “Here’s my order,” he declared. “I thought that a food order was going to be taken, so I was ready.”

Taking his note, I read his order. He’d used a cryptic shorthand that made me laugh. I had to puzzle through it to make any sense of it.

A cake with white frosting was delivered. A piece was cut for me. I picked up a plate with the cake and prepared to eat. The dream ended.

Everybody should experience uplifting dreams like these.

 

The Room Dream

Dreamed I was working for one of my old bosses, WB, from my first medical startup company. 

An odd job, I’d been given a task of setting up a room for others to use as classrooms. The others had paid for this. I was also busy with a dozen other things during the dream. That entailed me running down halls and racing up and down stairs. That was a challenge, as our office space was like a giant mall. My running and stairs became famous in the dream, causing others to stop and watch me, even cheering me on.

Then, with weird dream logic, I thought maybe I needed a gun. Behold I had a black handgun in my left hand (I’m right handed). My mission briefly changed. The handgun disappeared then as I shunned that mission, deciding that I wasn’t with security. Confusion arose as I thought (and looked, in the dream), didn’t I have a gun? Then I recalled, oh, yeah, I don’t need a gun, and ran on.

Down in the classroom, the right side was a disheveled mess. I set the left side up for the teaching required. It could sit twenty people without problem. The first group came in, checked it out, were happy, and left. I thought, “THAT’S IT? That’s all I’m supposed to do?

“Well, I can do this.”

Leaving the room to do some other undefined task, I rushed down the polished corridors once again. Arriving in my boss’s office (WB), he introduced me to a very important person. This VIP wanted to use our services and set up a room. Could I do that? By the way, it’s needed NOW.

Off I raced, sprinting the hallways once again. As I did, people said, “Oh, here he comes,” and stood to watch.

Back down in the room, I found it in good shape, almost as I’d left it. Chairs were in rows. The right side was a mess. Someone came in to help me. They asked if the right side needed to be cleaned up. “No, just ignore it. We’re not using it. No reason to try to change it.”

I made fast changes to improve the other side of the room (adding conveniences and touches such as a television and a lectern up front, and conjuring up a food service (with servers) in the back left corner). Okay, we were good to go, I announced to my young male helper.

The white office phone rang. I remember thinking, how strange that the phone is white. I never remembered being anywhere with a white office phone.

It was WB. Was the room ready? “Yes,” I answered, “it’s ready. Are you coming down now?”

“No, we don’t need to come down. We just need to know the room is ready.”

The dream ended.

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