Sunday, August 26, 2007

The One Thing Holding It Together

Terrible dream.

Laid off from work yet neglected to be told.

Not the supervisor in the hotel lobby "checking in" on me
while I'm in the field ("But you ran off before I could tell
you," she'd later defend.)

Not the exuberant, stocky Home Office Rep...feigning
interaction & work transition ("Can you help me categorize
these filters?")

The co-worker/peer only sobbing & embracing ("It's
not fair. It's not fair...")

Even detached high school acquaintances make an
appearance as I buckle & fall on... an escalator? ("Ted?
Is that you?")

How do I go on? I think. My thoughts rapid-fire &
destructive like tusks puncturing membrane. I need
that money. So many bills...I'll never catch up now.

Odd, little things too. Dream logic things. I pretend to
hurl my camera (aka the company's rather expensive
digital Coolpix 8800) out a window but secretly lodge
it in the jamb, hidden between pilings of discarded
matteboard & screen.

Crawling toward the front door, my back seemingly
broken. The President passes, gives an arched greeting
& is gone into his office. I extend my middle finger
after him.

My replacement is named Jim Shooter. Ex-management
from corporate who's fallen on hard times. A few strings
pulled to land him my job many states away. I am the
random causalty to nepotism. No wonder I wake in anger
& frustration.

Sunday morning. Time to go to work.

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