So, the four day weekend was welcome, if the circumstances requiring it were not. It sure makes it harder to get out of bed and drag myself into the boredom and dreariness of the cube farm.
I had a dream last night that I worked for a fashion house, making stuff for a famous label. I divided my time between Boston and Portsmouth. There was an in-house contest for one of the women who worked there, I guess she needed a dress for an event or something. The thing that won was a big sparkly sequined thing with mickey and minnie mouse on it. She was thrilled, everyone else was horrified. It looked more like a purse than a dress, really, and wouldn't stop changing size.
I dreamed I loved my job.
In the building where I worked, there was a huge elevator. It brought me up to my studio, which was situated in between floors, very sneaky like. I had to screw with the elevator to get it to let me off. There, I was creating a city in clothes. Sky scrapers of suit coats, pumps cobbling the streets, arm holes were windows with belts defining the panes. It was huge and beautiful, and I was so proud of it.
I woke up, disappointed and tired, to ready myself for the first day of another week of seemingly endless drudgery. No, drudgery is the wrong word. I'm looking for something that describes sitting in a cubicle, scouring the internet for something that looks kind of like work so the people walking by my cubicle will be fooled into thinking that I'm doing something important when all I'm really doing is making a 10 minute project take an hour. Is there a word for that?
I was so happy in my dream.
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