atmsmshr
Full time employment: Posting here.
DW and I are recently retired; this year and last were supposed to be our international travel period. Oh well.
Not normally remembering our dreams upon waking – this past week produced some doozies that we shared with one another. Apparently, our travel restricted imaginations are slipping into pandemic overdrive while dreaming. (That, or early onset dementia.)
A few days ago, I dreamt of being late for a job interview with a pair of nefarious lawyers – who happened to be cartoon characters. The tardiness was induced by having to lug a bobsled and very expensive (plus an overly complicated film camera) through the streets of a Swiss village. Because the Austrian 10-man team who owned the sled and camera were suddenly called away to the world championship final biathlon competition of bobsledding while harmonica playing. It seemed that I did not want their kit stolen in the mean streets of the Swiss Alps. My sidekick was a talking koala bear. (Woke up with the cat purring next to my head – coincidence?)
DW related her dream this morning of me taking her to get a facial. To a city 300 miles away. Inside the skanky booth with her while having a consultation for the facial was a Harley rider wearing a cannula for supplemental oxygen; still on his motorcycle and smoking cigarillos. Apparently, he was getting ready for a secret double lung transplant. DW then realized another customer was also in for a transplant and that the salon must be a front for organ harvesting. We left the salon/organ harvesting center whereupon she accused me of not wanted to report the criminal activity to the authorities for fear of getting involved. (Does she think I was complicit? Could be a tense day.)
Thinking of either us both getting therapy or having the tap water checked for heavy metal contamination this month.
What are your retired/pandemic dreams?
Not normally remembering our dreams upon waking – this past week produced some doozies that we shared with one another. Apparently, our travel restricted imaginations are slipping into pandemic overdrive while dreaming. (That, or early onset dementia.)
A few days ago, I dreamt of being late for a job interview with a pair of nefarious lawyers – who happened to be cartoon characters. The tardiness was induced by having to lug a bobsled and very expensive (plus an overly complicated film camera) through the streets of a Swiss village. Because the Austrian 10-man team who owned the sled and camera were suddenly called away to the world championship final biathlon competition of bobsledding while harmonica playing. It seemed that I did not want their kit stolen in the mean streets of the Swiss Alps. My sidekick was a talking koala bear. (Woke up with the cat purring next to my head – coincidence?)
DW related her dream this morning of me taking her to get a facial. To a city 300 miles away. Inside the skanky booth with her while having a consultation for the facial was a Harley rider wearing a cannula for supplemental oxygen; still on his motorcycle and smoking cigarillos. Apparently, he was getting ready for a secret double lung transplant. DW then realized another customer was also in for a transplant and that the salon must be a front for organ harvesting. We left the salon/organ harvesting center whereupon she accused me of not wanted to report the criminal activity to the authorities for fear of getting involved. (Does she think I was complicit? Could be a tense day.)
Thinking of either us both getting therapy or having the tap water checked for heavy metal contamination this month.
What are your retired/pandemic dreams?