It happened again, the same damn dream.
I’ve lost count how many times I’ve had it, maybe five or six, but what made this one different was the level of realism; I felt like I was there. It took a minute or two after waking up to realize I was in the comfort of my own home.
You need a little background: For seven and a half months, I was a postal carrier. And I can say with 1,000 percent certainty (I know that’s a lot, just trust me on this one) I won’t in this lifetime ever return to that job. Nope, no, no way no how, no, no and double no. Yet I do keep returning to it in dreams and now I’m starting to wonder why.
The dream: I walked into the former postal station I worked at. It was eerily quiet for an early morning, there was no sound coming from anywhere. I didn’t see any managers or any other carriers. I went to talk with one of the clerks, who for whatever reason, was behind a Plexiglas window. And the clerk behind the window was Erik Estrada. Yeah, the guy from CHiPs. He said he was replacing a woman who had recently retired.
Next, I went from one room to the next, walking up two steps to do so. As I got in the door frame, I almost collided with Daniel Radcliffe. He said hi and looked ridiculously happy to be working at the post office. I tried to ask if he was there researching for a new role, but he was long gone into the room I just stepped out of.
I went over the station where I was going to sort the day’s mail for the route I was carrying, but it was barely a handful. That particular route was one of the biggest, so this amount of mail was very odd. No one was sorting packages and I kept wondering when I was supposed to leave. I looked at the clock: 8:15 am. I had no idea if I was supposed to deliver anything – and there was no one there to ask.
I’ve been re-playing this in my head most of the day, as I can’t understand why the post office keeps coming up in my dreams. Like I said earlier, I won’t work there again, but maybe the dream’s not literal, but represents something else I’m holding on to. And maybe, just maybe, it ties in with my current job.
Before I applied at the post office, I’d been an administrative assistant. Two bad bosses in a row made me take a new direction and I ended up a postal carrier. But I slipped and fell on the job, hurt my knee, wasn’t able to get worker’s compensation, and the repetitive stress in my hands and shoulders was beyond painful. I left and found a new job as an admin.
Then the dreams began.
Since I started the new job, I’ve been thinking about my future. A LOT. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about finding something I’m genuinely passionate about that I’d love to do for decades to come. Where I’m at right now is great for right now, but someday I will move on. So how does this tie into the dreams? Maybe, just maybe, they represent how I took a step backward to something I know and am familiar with, that being an admin.
The image I attached to this blog belongs to René Magritte, a 20th century surrealist. Magritte had a talent for capturing images that look relatively ordinary until you look closely and realize they’re not at all what they seem to be. A great example is Le Blanc Seing, the image on the left. It looks like a woman on a horse. But look at her and you’ll see her on the trees as part of the bark. Her horse is a part of the trees as well, yet it has hooves on the ground. Where she and the horse begin and end is inconsistent and subject to interpretation, so much like our dreams.
Here’s hoping I’ll dream of something simple like falling or being chased, and not the post office again. ‘Til then, pleasant dreams, or at least, not such odd dreams.