April 29: Small Dream, New/Old Job, Nuclear War

Last year I had a very unusual experience.  I was awake, with my eyes closed, when I had a dream.  It was a small dream about time.

Dillard has a waking dream.  It's about death and time and infinity.  Living in the past, present, and future.  Dillard's dream is full of flowing scarves and planets, mountains and caves, and an ocean.  Nostalgia and continents and France.  If this sounds confusing, that's alright. Taken out of context, it makes little sense.  But the entire passage about her dream is full of poetry and longing.

Today has been kind of amazing.  Like a dream even.  Earlier this week, I interviewed for a new/old job.  My position at the outpatient surgery center where I worked for 17 years was suddenly available.  I applied.  Just before I left work this evening, I was offered the position.  I accepted.  Dream number one.

Right before I left work, I also found out that I have a teaching contract for the fall semester at the university.  Two sections of Introduction to Film.  It's one of my favorite classes to teach.  I haven't been offered this course for over a year.  It is going to be a great semester.  And that would be waking dream number two.

Two waking dreams in one day.  Now, the rest of the weekend is going to suck more than a little bit.  Tons of stuff to grade.  It all has to be done by Monday at noon.  That means that I have to submit my grades by Sunday night because I'm working all day Monday.  So, as the seven dwarfs say, "Hi ho, hi ho!  It's off to grading response papers and research projects and argumentative essays and final exams until I go insane!"  That's a loose paraphrase.

Of course, the evening is not over yet.  A freak tidal wave could hit the Upper Peninsula and wipe out the entire population of Marquette County.  A tornado could swoop down and turn my neighborhood into a pile of popsicle sticks.  North Korea could launch a nuclear strike, turning the entire world into a grey shadowland where beetles become rulers of the planet.

All of this could happen, and the day would be ruined. 

Thank God that Saint Marty has a half bottle of wine in his refrigerator to celebrate or crush beetles with.  Depending on how the day ends.

Add caption