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.

The True Focus Dream

I dreamed that I was hired for a new job. My wife had a new job, too. Although they were in the same general business park, we decided to drive separately.

I arrived on time in a suit with tie, and found my new business location. True Focus had hired me, sight unseen, without even interviews. I’d submitted my resume on a whim, so I was surprised.

But I’d take it and do what I could with it. I found an HR person who directed me to a work area, a half-wall cubicle in a huge room full of like cubicles. Lots of friendly people were about. As introductions progressed, I discovered that I was the only one working for True Focus. Most worked for another large corporation, the name either not given, or forgotten.

Feeling good about being there, I was settling into my space when a man came by and dropped off several folders and envelopes for me. One had a note from my boss, Trish, to come and see them when I had the chance. Meanwhile, here was some information to study.

I was excited. I opened one of the manila packets and discovered it full of packets of new American paper money with a note, “For your work.” As other workers ogled the money and made comments, I stuffed it in my pocket with the money I already had in my pockets.

Then I opened another packet, and found more money. I shoved it in my pocket. It barely fit.

I then took off my coat and sat down to go through the materials and read. I came across the note from Trish again. They were in office number forty-six. I went looking for Trish and discovered the offices were along the outside walls. Summing up the direction, I walked along, heading for forty-six, but realized that a platoon of people were in my way. I sussed that they were senior executives, and they were holding a wedding. Not wanting to interrupt, I decided I’d try again later.

Crossing back to my cubicle, I realized that I’d removed my shoes and trousers. I knew where I’d put them, but when I got there, I discovered someone else’s pants and shoes were there. They looked similar in color and style to mine, so I tried putting them on, but they were too big for me. I figured I was the butt of a joke, but I needed my pants and shoes, thanks.

People noticed the missing attire. I waved them off with a laugh and explained, “I’ve been retired. I’m not used to working clothes like this.”

My cubicle had been moved. It was full of people there for training. That miffed me. They apologized, but they were doing as they were told. I shrugged it off, deciding that I’d work around it for now and sort it later. Someone brought me my pants and shoes. At that point, I noticed that my fingernails were painted dark gray. I laughed about that, remembering that I’d been fooling around and painted them, and then had forgotten about it.

The money felt wadded in my pocket, so I took it out to organize it. I keep pulling money out of my pocket. People passing noticed it, and made jokes. I finally got all the money out, smoothed it, put it all together in fat bundles, and put them back into my pockets.

I went to find Trish in forty-six again, but remembered that I didn’t have my pants on. Returning, I put them on, and set out again. I reached forty-six. It was a small office with a woman and two men in it set across a table from one another. They were about to close the door to start a meeting. The woman said something about who I was, that she didn’t even know me. I gave her an arch reply along the lines of my name and the fact that I was her new hire. One man, who looked like an older version of Ron Weasley from the early Harry Potter movies, said, “Oh, you’re my new hire. I’m Trish.”

He asked me if I had the True Focus mission statement. I said, “No, I didn’t know that I was supposed to bring it.”

He said, “The mission statement is what it’s all about.”

I said, “I’ll go back and get it,” and walked away.

Dream ended.

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