It has nothing to do with the show Les Miserables . But it has everything to do with days gone by AND this hell I’m living – retail pharmacy, of course.
I’ve worked retail pharmacy for twenty-five years now. For at least twenty of those wonderful years , I have had a recurring dream. Yes, there are times when I can go weeks, even months without knowing I’ve had the dream. Then I have it a couple days in a row and … it’s gone again. I’m sure some psychotherapist would have a field day with that and me for that matter. But with those I’ve shared this with, the pattern seems similar to what each has experienced.
So, I’m in pharmacy school, plugging along, and wham I fail a class or something equally school/career altering happens that makes me re-evaluate my future/options. Pharmacy school, like any professional degree, has classes that are sequential. You have to pass Pharmaceutics I to go on the Pharmaceutics II. Since the classes are only offered in specific semesters, the entire schooling tract revolves around the forward movement – passing each class. You fail – your fucked. In this dream, however, I never get passed the decision – I’m always faced with the decision or ,better yet, panicked by what little options exist. Often I wake up realizing I’ve had the dream, yet knowing no resolution occurred.
Believe it or not, I did not start writing as an escape from pharmacy. It just happened. As I continued, I embraced the process and the release from reality that writing brought. I could be anything I wanted to write about; very fulfilling. To this day, I still can’t write a letter or even a long e-mail and keep a train of thought without getting impatient. Besides, I ramble A LOT- imagine that, eh? But I can sustain entire novels quite well.
I’ve read numerous positive thinking books – please refrain from negative commentary here. The moments before falling asleep are supposedly crucial to that damn subconscious mind and ultimately what we dream. You would think that as much as I think about writing and trying to change the outcome of that dream IT WOULDV’E HAPPENED ALREADY. I think more about writing and my success as a writer than sex. Really. Unfortunately, that stupid dream remains the same.
Until now!
It finally happened. The details are sketchy, though. And as more days go by, what details there were fade at an exponential rate. However, the fact is my dream changed. All I remember is that I had the dream again. However, this time I was actually at a different school. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing, I didn’t seemed faced with that ‘career traumatic decision’ and/or failure AND some cute, twenty-something co-ed told me, this used-to-be cute, forty-nine year old dude, that I had a nice ass.
What could be better than that?
Yes, it’s been a few days and the dream has not reoccurred. Who cares!? Something is changing in that cavernous hollow of a subconscious of mine and I’m ready.
Bring it!
P.S. I really do have a nice ass!
