Sunday, September 21, 2014

Elaborate dreams about work. I was assigned to work on two brands one day, though in the work rules in the dream I was only supposed to work on one. The others on one of the brand teams—the copywriter, especially—got angry at me for not completing a job. It was a writing job, not editing, which also was—and is, in real life—not my responsibility. I held up a document containing my meagre efforts so far, and protested that I had this other brand to worry about. Still, I had the guilty sense that I’d dawdled between bouts of work. There was a client meeting. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place, but I recognized enough of the attendees to sit down anyway. I didn’t have a pen. At some point there was something for me to write down, and I noticed a pile of pens at the end of the table, to my left. I wrote it on a little scrap of paper.