Dreams

I suppose everyone has parts of their job that they love, and other parts they're not so fond of. I mean, cops probably enjoy helping people and shooting bad guys, but hate having to fill out reports and watch videos some jerk took while they were interrogating Rodney King. Dentists probably enjoy examining well-cared-for teeth when the person has minty-fresh breath, but hate to look into the pie-hole of somebody who had oreos and whiskey for breakfast. Congressmen probably enjoy dallying with pages and getting into restaurants without reservations, but hate looking at themselves in the mirror after raising taxes or voting for complicated mandates that hurt businesses, put people out of work, and mess up things that were working perfectly well until they intervened.

Or maybe not. It's conceivable that some government officials love ALL the aspects of their jobs...even the part where they go home and light candles in goat-blood pentagrams while they pray to their chosen deity. Which, come to think of it, would probably closely mirror the people who thought up the processes for producing proposals.

And it's those proposals that provide the negatives within my chosen profession. My work with the video folks can be hard, challenging, and demanding...but it is always enjoyable and rewarding. Proposal work, though, robs me of sleep, gives me rashes, and activates long-dormant thoughts of searching the globe for an active volcano to throw myself into.

I'll spare you the details of skin irritations and being drawn toward hot lava (a phenomenon known as "magma-tism". Ar ar.) But the disruption in my sleep patterns has me concerned enough to write about it.

It's not just that I get home late and can't get to bed at my normal hours. And it's not just that falling asleep is more difficult than usual due to ulcerous intestinal rumblings provoked by the day's events. It's also that I have really weird dreams.

When I'm working with the video group, I have dreams about swimming in crystal blue waters, petting fluffy kittens, and lounging on tropical islands where the margaritas are huge and the bikinis microscopic. When I'm on a proposal, though, the dreams I remember have a much darker side to them.

Last night I dreamed that I was called in to kick the winning field goal in the Super Bowl. The regular kicker had thrown up on Roone Arledge and was kicked out of the game, so it was up to me. For some reason, the field goal attempt was to be made in the high-school A/V closet, and the ball was sitting atop a Kodak Carousel slide projector containing a tray of autopsy photos that were somehow part of the girls' Home-Ec curriculum. The goal posts were painted on the closet wall, approximately three feet away, making it seem like a gimme kick. But I had trouble getting my kicking leg up high enough to reach the platform that held the projector and ball. There would be no rush to avoid...in fact, there were no football players in the closet at all -- only the stern Principal and for some reason, Uncle Joe from Petticoat Junction. (I think he was the referree.)

Anyway, I missed the field goal, and was subsequently pelted with batteries and calculus textbooks. It was frightening and humiliating, and I woke up in a cold sweat. After some deep breathing and meditation, though, I was finally able to go back to sleep. I woke up a short while later with numb forearms after dreaming that I was swimming breaststroke while towing a boat that carried Jack LaLanne and Kurt Russell, who were both yelling at me to pull harder. (It turns out that my arms were tingling because I had wrapped them awkwardly under the pillow and had cut off the circulation, so it was probably a good thing I woke up.)

That reminds me of the very first Rich Little gag I saw. In a John Wayne voice, he said "I dreamed I was eating a giant marshmallow. When I woke up, my pillow was gone."

What does that have to do with anything? I have no idea. I just need a good night's sleep. Wish me luck.

Thanks, and have a great day! I leave you with this to ponder. Absorb the lessons well, my friends.