Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Last Night's Dream

Here is a description of a work-related anxiety dream if I've ever had one.


It starts in my cubicle at the office. I get a phone call from Neil Patrick Harris' "Barney" character from How I Met Your Mother. Apparently I work with him now . . . or at least he has my phone number. Barney was in charge of procuring a stripper for some office function and, in typical Barney fashion, he has struck me with the task of paying the stripper once her duties were performed. I try to protest, but Barney will have none of it. The stripper is coming over to my cubicle for payment.

(I also feel that there was some sort of ball-related joke here, but my dream brain mercifully decided to omit those details. Just a vague feeling remains.)

The stripper arrives and I awkwardly make payment without looking very much. Luckily, the lights in the office seem kind of dim, so not too many stray glances occur. But the uncormfortable meter is peaking pretty high.

Once the stripper has been paid and has left the premises, here comes the other part of the dream in the form of a World War II-era British military officer. He has arrived at my desk and clearly has something vitally important to ask me. The only thing is, he isn't so good on speaking those demands clearly. What follows is lots of facial gestures, oddly signficant hand-waving, and about one out of four words in a sentence spoken aloud. I am really struggling to get this guys meaning down, but it is increasingly clear that he has previously asked me to do something for him and I have forgotten what it is. His inadequate communications are now preventing me from understanding exactly what I failed to do the first time. And I am growing very tense and frustrated.

After more back and forth, (along with some pointing to a poster of British military aircraft hanging on my cubicle wall) I finally realize that I had been tasked with writing a description of this man's father's actions in World War II in the Royal Air Force to post on a company Web site. And since it was now PAST Father's Day, I had failed in meeting my deadline. And I was full of remorse in the fact that I would now have to wait a full year to adequately meet the request again.


Sigh. Work-related dreams SUCK

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