From: dicksilk@gmail.com   
      
   2019/10/01 Wednesday: Wasted times??   
      
   Two sequences come to mind:  the first involved a home setting much like   
   Asbury Lane: rural, mobile home, barn, an acre-plus of land beside a creek,   
   although only the home was center stage here:  it just *felt* like the   
   location at Asbury Lane.  There    
   was a specific type of animal, and I'm sorry I can't recall exactly what it   
   was, but it reminded me of either a lion, cow or bull, but not all 3— just   
   that it was *large.*  There were a number of smaller critters also.  The   
   action involved them all    
   being gathered around my bed, as if I were tucking them all in for the night   
   to sleep in a safe location, my bedroom.  Clarity 6 to 8.   
      
   The next scene involved going off to work somewhere, with the nagging memory   
   that I needed to get back home to tend to the critters.  Clarity 5?   
      
   This next bit seemed like a totally different dream sequence, and although it   
   seems *exceptionally* work-related, it doesn't exactly fit within the   
   narrative of the previous dream, although I can't say it doesn't, either.   
      
   I find myself at something of a data entry position, something like a case   
   worker, with a list of available incoming cases, and a screen for which I'm   
   supposed to be entering data.  I have this sense that I'm really wasting time   
   there, not getting    
   anything done that should be done, until this last case comes up, which I get   
   to work filling in some data, having the internal knowledge that completing   
   this case is about to set off the Apocalypse at Armageddon, even though it   
   seems like just another    
   case needing processed on the screen.  Clarity 5 or 6.   
      
   I also have the sense that I'm going to be "let go" from this job, likely for   
   failure to perform up to metrics of cases handled per hour per day.  No drama,   
   just a touch of sadness, as I actually kinda enjoyed the work, but also felt   
   management was doing    
   the right thing, because honestly, I was not putting out enough case   
   turn-over:  I was simply soaking up time / paycheck.  I recall a type of   
   apology / thanks for having had the opportunity to launch that last case,   
   however.  There was a certain type of    
   personal pride at having been THE person to file THE case that started THE   
   Apocalypse at Armageddon. C6.   
      
   There was also this bit about having submitted some kind of synopsis by phone,   
   sort of like data entry as well.  Having only filed the one case earlier, I   
   felt a tad awkward as if I didn't exactly know what I was doing on the phone,   
   and seemed to have    
   left the phone off hook in some manner, failed to disconnect the connection.    
   A woman's voice comes on and assures me she'll handle / process the issue, and   
   all I need to do is hang up and go on. C6.   
      
   This other dream sequence involved location and another person in an open,   
   flat area, something like a concrete patio that was as large as perhaps 20   
   yards by 20 yards.  Some fellow was involved along with a sound function, as   
   if somehow the sound and I    
   each played a part, although I was telling him about some component that was   
   missing.  Rather vague, clarity 4 perhaps.   
      
   So this last section had a few scenes all dealing with computer / digital work   
   elements:  There was a locked (security badge / ID type) room, the kind in   
   real life that I often worked inside, only in this case I was on the outside,   
   pondering what was on    
   the other side, with a fairly good idea of what was likely on the other side   
   but not *knowing*, which gave it a touch of mystique / lure.  What's more, a   
   person at a desk position on the outside wasn't letting me *in,* AND wouldn't   
   tell me squat even    
   though he probably had a fairly good idea of what he was guarding as he worked   
   his desk station outside of it.   
      
   There was a need to find Smyrna High School for some strange reason, as if   
   there were a delivery that needed to be made to a street address, only this   
   location *seemed* to be inside this door.  I was on a phone connection of some   
   kind to a person    
   regarding the address, and I was a tad surprised to find myself in possession   
   of a phone book! and started looking for the listed address, as if in trying   
   to confirm the doors were actually the location of the school for which I was   
   trying to complete a    
   delivery.   
      
   There were some rather low clarity points here, mainly because although I knew   
   what I was doing, I really didn't understand *why* I was there doing it...   
   but:  imagine a flat area with several uniform objects laid out, as if digital   
   devices were purse    
   sized and shaped (about 8"x4"x2½") and had a code display on an outer corner,   
   not unlike a calculator's LCD display.  It seems as if I were tasked with   
   adding a final code of some kind, not so much by manually punching it in, but   
   by application, kind of    
   like with a reverse scanner, one that assigns (writes) data rather than reads   
   it.  Now there are about 8 or so of these objects lined up, and I'm trying to   
   gather them up for delivery (?) only I muddle up 3 of them, as if accidentally   
   hitting a corner    
   button that changes whatever mode there were in prior to delivery.  I have a   
   hand-held scanner that works by producing a very bright (white) light that   
   allows the reader portion of the device to detect whatever is present, only I   
   seem to be reading empty    
   parking spaces that have codes written in them.  I can only read those what   
   are closest, as the spot that's farthest away (perhaps 10 yard?) is either too   
   blurry or too far away to read accurately.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)