Post Office Prison California

It seems most of my recent vivid dream sequences happen in either the early morning hours, or when I’m sleeping later in the morning.  I might try an experiment tonight, and have a small sweet a few hours before bed.  But I’m scared, because every time I eat sugar too late in the day, I wind up having really scary dreams about snakes, falling from high places, or demons.

Early this morning, I was in a weird city, getting reestablished in a new home.  I needed a job, and there were a few openings at the post office.  The first strange thing that happened was that they didn’t even interview me.  The post office was a weird run down type of warehouse, where there was only one way to get inside, via a million rickety aluminum steps up the backside of the building.

There were hundreds of people working in a large area, and I was immediately sent to a sorting room to count IOU’s and accounting papers.  Another weird thing was there were rows of tables where people were sitting sorting other things.  It reminded me of a sweatshop.  Nobody was allowed breaks, and we worked insane hours.

When my first work day was over (without training), the supervisor said to go home right away and be back at 5:30.  “But tomorrow is Sunday” I said.  “Sunday is our busiest sort day.  And since it’s a holiday, we’re working 36 hours” the supervisor said.  “36 hours?  There’s only 24 in a day” I argued.  “Not here” she shot back, and walked away.  What kind of universe is this???

When I tried to find my way back to the rickety steps, I wound up in an electrical room, where people were tying themselves to thick metal ropes, and leaving the building via tiny windows.  There was no way I was jumping out a damn window!  So I asked the another supervisor how to get to the steps.  Then freaking Keanu Reeves came back through one of the windows, and started yelling that I’ll never find the steps, and good luck getting out.  Nobody is allowed to leave the post office unless they’re a supervisor.

But … but, my supervisor said to go home.  I have to be back here at 5:30 and I need sleep!  Nope.  You’re not leaving.  And of course I got all defiant and walked away to look for the steps, which turned to mud by the time I got there.  I didn’t care.  I was going to get out!

But someone promptly spotted me trying to escape, and three men in white escorted me back into the building to show me to my permanent room.  Maybe if I behave, they’ll let me out on good behavior???

Then some corporate big wigs showed up for an important meeting, and I was assigned to tend to their needs, which turned out to be absolutely nothing except listening to their lecture about what needed improvement.  Then my wheels started turning, and my brain fell out, and asked the CEO (who turned out to be Darth Vader) if I could leave, pleading that I didn’t belong there.

Next thing I know, Darth became 9 feet tall, and ordered me to kneel at his feet for speaking out of turn.

I don’t think I ever made it out, because that’s the last thing I remember of that part of the dream sequence.  Then I was yelling at someone in the dark.  I couldn’t find a light switch that worked, and I was afraid that the babadook was going to show up soon if we didn’t get some light in the room soon.  But then I felt it, and I jolted awake.

 

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