Snapshots from Green Victoria (tedwords) wrote,
Snapshots from Green Victoria
tedwords

Not quite a handmaiden, not yet a director...

I woke up at three in the morning with THAT kind of worry.

Not the day to day worries, such as, did I leave the stove on, or did I pay the electric bill. But the big, scary one, the one that creeps over you starting in your forties and really leaves you quivering in the your bed.

The one that asks, have I accomplished enough? Am I fulfilling my life's destiny? And also, how much more time do I have to get here?

I brushed it off, quickly got out of bed. Made myself some toast, had a glass of milk. As a side effect, woke Corb out of a sound sleep (I felt bad about that one.)
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Ten minutes later, I went back to bed, tried to get back to sleep. But it was no use, my head was swimming with thoughts and ideas, plans of actions, things to do. Finally, I woke up and grabbed a piece of paper. Wrote down my plans for my manuscripts, my babies...what I needed to change, which one was closest to completion. Where I wanted to go next.

One hour later, I was finally ready to sleep again. I fell into a deep one, but unlike most of my dreams, this one was vivid. I dreamt I was in New York City, representing my job, and helping with the making of a movie. We were celebrating the first shoot, had a few drinks, and were taking in the first act of a comedy, which wasn't being held in a New York theater, but in what appeared to be a French salon.

I started talking to the director of the movie. We were getting along well, really hit it off. We decided to leave the play at intermission and have a drink at his apartment. Not for THAT reason. Just to talk. But somehwere along the line, I lost my computer and iPad, and spent the rest of the dream obsessively hunting around for them, while the director, who was clearly in charge of everything and everyone, moved forward with everything. Finally, upon completion of the movie, I found my laptop. Said my goodbyes.

Everyone was nice in the dream, but I felt like a handmaiden. I didn't like the feeling, one bit. I was clearly far from being the direct, and had no impact on the making of the movie whatsoever. And I didn't like it, one bit.

What do I want to be, the handmaiden or the mover and shaker. I know what I want, but where will my reach ultimately extend?

###

Saturday morning, I learned that Scumbiscuit passed away. I am sure that's why I had such vivid dreams. I think part of me wants to think that Scumby had entered my dreams, to provide me with a warning...and, a reminder to keep my eye on the prize. 
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