Dreams WITHOUT Eating Late!


Good grief! This was not a dream; it was a nightmare!

I dreamt that I was working back at Harcourt. There was a swimming pool involved and we were all having a great time in the pool. The dream involved a lot of changing into (modest) swimwear, as well as checking texts and emails on our phones. There were people I knew and some I didn’t. But then — MARGIE arrived! She made us wear complicated designer dresses, completely decorated the entire office, and gave us impossible assignments. Almost everyone quit. I went to see her in her office, and whereas I had always just knocked on the boss’s door and if she wasn’t busy, I would go right in. Not now! The secretary-from-hell guarded Margie’s office vigilantly. She screamed at me when I know knocked on Margie’s door, “Don’t you know how to behave?” Later, when I was quitting, I was summoned to Margie’s office. I couldn’t figure out how to wear the designer dress so I wore a nice dress of my own. When I went to the secretary to gain admittance to the “inner sanctum,” she attempted to take my dress off me, as it wasn’t the correct dress. She actually CUT the dress I was wearing. I screamed, “Call 9-1-1! Call the police! This is assault and battery!” because she had verbal assaulted me and cut my clothing (battery). The police were on the way when I awoke.

The next before this, or maybe the one before that, I had dreamed about Cathy, the editor at Harcourt. I don’t remember much about the dream, but I also have several.”work” dreams a month. Sometimes it involves Pearson, but usually Harcourt or Harcourt/Pearson. Rarely NYS Ed Dept. Apparently I am still suffering trauma from that brief year with Margie at Harcourt. It gives me a clue to a defining moment in my life, I guess.

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About mairedubhtx

I am a "youngish" grandmother of 15 year old twin granddaughter who has recently (is a year "recent"?) adopted Islam as my way of life, much to the consternation of my family. I love to read. I love to write. I am writing a book about my decision to revert, about my spiritual journey. I have another blog about stories from my youth, my parents, and grandparents. It's a blog so my OCD daughter will not be able to throw it out when I die. I suffer from depression and anxiety, for which I am treated, so my posts may be a bit dark at times. C'est la vie.
This entry was posted in defining moments, designer dresses, dreams, Harcourt, Margie, secretaries, trauma. Bookmark the permalink.

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