I picked up a magazine design job. Which I'm very pleased about. But... it's temporarily turned my life upside down.
It's a collaborative project, so I had to upgrade my software. My perfectly functional, (but antique by today's standards) desktop computer is too old to accept the new software – so I can delay no longer, I finally bought a new desktop computer. Which produced 2 solid days of aggravation. Apple has completely lost their way, it is now a user-hostile company. I was literally shrieking by the end of it, but that's another post.
And... the printer's deadline was last week, and... although the client isn't new, I'm working with an editor I'm not acquainted with, and... I'm starting with files someone else originally created. And... if all that doesn't register high enough on the stress-o-meter... I was brought in to replace someone who was let go mid-project.
Last night as I walked away from the computer, I was congratulating myself on successfully dealing with Defcon 5 and looking forward to having an enjoyable dinner with girlfriends. Recounting your personal stress is boring, I try not to inflict that on people. But I had to tell them about my insane dream the night before... it occupied my entire night, it was exhausting.
I dreamt my husband and I bought a new house.
A charming little one-story bungalow in a beautiful setting. A little worn, in need of some TLC, but basically a very good house and we were thrilled.
After the purchase I took my friend Marian to see the new house. As we approached I immediately noticed things I hadn't seen before – it was looking a little scruffy outside. Hmmm... how did that happen?
When we entered, I was shocked to see major wear and tear... peeling paint, dirty threadbare carpet, damaged woodwork, doors hanging from hinges. Marian and I both gasped. Who in their right mind would buy THIS house?
Then things started getting really crazy.
The house began to morph... right before our eyes junk started accumulating, beginning at the walls and working inwards. And the house began to expand, as we walked through it, rooms appeared that I hadn't seen before. We opened a door I hadn't seen before to reveal a very long dark hallway that sloped down to a big window-less and cavernous space which was full of very busy people working with a ton of dilapidated junk. Marian started to exclaim, "OMG! OMG! What are you going to do?!"
My new house was full of extremely busy Russians, clamoring in loud, animated Russian.
I was so overwhelmed I couldn't speak. A woman peels off from the group and sidles up next to me, she begins to surreptitiously whisper to me so the other Russians won't hear, "You have to do something, you have to stop this, it is bad this... very bad."
As I'm telling my girlfriends this nutty dream that went on all night, and wondering what in the world it means, my Gemini friend begins to laugh. "You have to stop RUSSIAN around! That's the message!"
She's right – I dream in clichés, it's so annoying. Solved – the dream is no longer disturbing. But I'm forced to admit my unconscious treats me like I'm not very bright.
Sigh...
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