Vivid Dreams

That last post, about waking up to a bed looking like I’d been in a fight during the night, ended up opening up a floodgate of memories, initiated by Jan F commenting “That was some wild night! Do you remember vivid dreams?”.

I don’t recall dreaming much in my younger years except, in my early teens, being plagued nightly by a recurring dream of a giant domino falling on my chest, crushing the breath of life out of me.

It wasn’t until I was an adult, looking back, that I realized that was indicative of my mom, controlling every aspect of my beingness, stifling my ability to breath.

Once out on my own, I never had that dream again.

Married to the twins’ father, there was the recurring dream of a tiger. The tiger was in a cage, pacing back/forth from one end of the cage to the other.

I realized the cage was marriage and the lion was I, feeling trapped, wanting out.

Once I escaped the twins’ dad, I never had that dream again and knew my path was to stay single, stay free.

I don’t recall much about dreaming after that, though I’m sure I did, until in the mid-60’s, in a job I liked (business office of a medical facility), where I was liked by coworkers and my boss, thought I was treated okay as a Black employee …. until a new office manager and a second boss came on the scene.

That second boss treated me like a slave, had me doing not only my secretarial work, but her job as well when assigned tasks her lazy arse didn’t want to do or, maybe, was not capable of performing.

I don’t recall the new office manager doing anything specific to make my life difficult, other than backing my second boss, overworking me by assigning additional duties, additional people to help —  because I had the skill and her having an attitude of superiority. An attitude of superiority office manager acquired because she was sleeping with the Medical Director who’d brought her in.

At any rate, between the two of them (the office manager and second boss) I began to feel very Black, unhappy but, with children to raise, felt I had no choice but to keep my head down and deal with whatever they threw my way.

Then, one night I saw a pretty little blonde girl in my dream.

Clear as day, I saw her face.

Would have recognized her anywhere.

I kid you not — she came on the scene the very next day, as a temporary worker, took a shine to me and one day said, “You’re really good at what you do, and they treat you like shit. Do you mind if I give your name to my agency?”

I agreed, and was contacted by her agency.

It was right after the Watts Riot and, as I later learned, affirmative action in the workplace was huge. Companies were scrambling to comply with government regulations.

Through the agency that provided us that temp, I learned I was a valuable commodity, in high demand. Did not have to take crap, because I was considered what they called back then a three-fer — I was not only Black, but skilled and nice looking. So, in short order, I shocked the crap out of office manager and second boss, when I was hired by a law firm and on to the next leg of my journey through life.

I never saw the blonde girl again after I left that job, but her agency said they were paid “a lot of money” by the law firm for bringing me to them.

Thinking back on it now, I was bought. Reminisce of the old plantation days, when slaves were staged on a platform bought/sold depending on what they had to bring to their new master.

That agency never told me how much I was bought for, just that "It was a lot of money". All based on my skin color, skills and professional appearance.

Being bought was fine by me, especially since, to this day, I can still see office manager's face when she asked me, "How did this happen?" and I said the temp offered me to her agency because she said I was good at what I did and you guys treated me like shit. Whereupon, office manager's eyes fell to the floor.

I'd shamed her. Outwitted her. She thought I'd be their slave forever and now she was being laughed at by office staff, which office staff, including some of the bigwigs, gave me a huge going-away party, which office manager and the second boss were not invited and did not attend.

I’m assuming the little blonde girl received a kick back from her agency for submitting my name, but it was all good.

I don’t know what happened to that second boss, but office manager came to a bad end shortly after I left.

Her arrogance at sleeping with the Medical Director was such that she thought she’d made it in life and was on to bigger things.

She began divorce proceedings (expecting to marry or be taken care of as mistress to the Medical Director), whereupon her husband went to her mom’s house, asked where she was, which turned out to be Denny’s Restaurant.

Husband killed office manager’s mom, drove to Denny’s and killed office manager right there, inside Denny’s.

To best of my recollection, he shot the mom, his wife (office manager), then killed himself, leaving behind a teenage daughter.

The co-workers that called me at my new place of employment, to apprise me of the happening, showed no mercy. Said they were happy to be rid of her.

The Medical Director, caught in a scandal, was forced to leave his position.

Since then, I recall many many what I call “telling” dreams. Dreams that tell me what’s going to happen before it happens, which has been beneficial to me in that, having this advanced information has allowed me to prepare — keep calm, non-reactive, not be hurt when it’s something I’ve been shown I have to lose or go through, as I've been made to understand it's part of the plan for my life here.

Twice, the telling dream was about someone else.

Like the time I saw a coworker standing over her husband. He was sitting in a big brown leather chair, remaining calm, trying to read, as she stood over, leaning in, haranguing him.

I never met her husband, never knew anything about him and she’d never spoken to me about him before but, from what I knew of her, it wasn’t difficult in the dream to understand the haranguing had something to do with religion — his not listening, not thinking/believing as she wanted him to.

The very next day, she walked over to my desk and began complaining about her husband.

I told her, “I saw you and your husband in a dream. Your husband is ahead of you spiritually speaking. Leave him alone”.

Her face looked like she’d been struck by lightning, so I guess she got the message.

The last significant telling dream I recall, that concerned someone else, was about one of the bosses.

My lawyer got a promotion in the firm and took me with him, where I met a woman I did not work for, but who took a liking to me and told me about her life — let’s call her Elizabeth, because that’s her name and it was years ago.

Elizabeth had been married to a rich man, who’d left her and their children, for a co-worker friend of hers.

At one time, Elizabeth and this woman, who’d stolen her husband, worked in the same office — desks just feet apart.

I had so much respect for Elizabeth’s having maintained her spiritual integrity as she went through that difficult situation, which ended with the ex-husband passing away, the co-worker inheriting his wealth and, with no further need to work, retiring, leaving Elizabeth not having to see the woman every day.

At any rate, one night I had a dream about Elizabeth. Did not see her doing anything, just saw her and a voice in the dream said, “Tell her it was her choice”.

By then, I was in a different department than Elizabeth, didn’t see her much and didn’t think anything more about the dream until, a day or so later, Elizabeth and I happened to be riding in the same elevator.

Elizabeth was highly agitated, saying something about her sister having moved in with her, and it not going well.

I didn’t know anything about the sister, about the situation, whether Elizabeth should have known better, whether the universe had told Elizabeth to not go down that route and she didn’t listen, but I said to Elizabeth, “I don’t know if this means anything, but I was told in a dream to tell you it was your choice”.

Elizabeth calmed down, took it in for a second, then said she understood and that was that.

Those were the specific instances that came to the surface today as a result of JanF’s comment.

On another note, as I was typing this, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement on the quad.

Thinking the figure looked like Head Maintenance Guy, I grabbed my phone, walked into the other room for a better view, lifted the blinds and waited for the figure to reappear.

Whatdoyaknow, it’s him ... back ... out of quarantine AND, at long last, wearing a mask.

That was quick.

I’ll be keeping an eye on him and, if I see him in the quad mask less ever again, I’ll take a photo and alert not just management, but Corporate.

On yet another note, No. 45 had a very bad, terrible, sad day.

First, the Supreme Court turned down his Texas lawsuit, then there was this ...

Remembering how badly 45 wanted this honor, how hard he tried to get himself named Time person of the year, I'm pretty sure he is PISSED! about this.

The closest he ever came was this fake cover someone created.