I had a dream last night that I was offered two jobs: 

One was as a personal assistant to a man who ran a cafe/restaurant situated on an intersection corner.  The walls lining the two cross streets were made of floor-to-ceiling windows, and I sat at a table in the lobby, sun filling my senses.  I worked with Miranda’s assistant Emily, who was surprisingly helpful in showing me around.  We would be sharing a room behind the cafe/storefront, since the few employees boarded on site.

The other job was at a dark sculptor’s studio that reminded me eerily of the first job I held in FtC.  As I was giving Steve a tour of my options in this  European town with cobblestone streets, I couldn’t even get close to the building holding said studio for fear that an old coworker would step out, and I would be sucked into chains and paid just enough to put up with fearful and berating comments about overshadowing my supervisor.

When I woke up this morning, I made a commitment to one day only accept positions that would place me by a large window.

One thought on “eurodream

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