Today I’d like to share my dreams. No, not the ones I have for the future, but those that come to me in the middle of the night. I can’t let go of things from the past. And while I have a great therapist, I am not going to waste her time or my money talking about my weird dreams, but I am happy to waste yours. Kidding—but not really.
Background information is helpful as you don your ratty Columbo trench coat to help me decipher what it means. First, I spent seven or so years working at The Limited. Working in retail taught me so much—some good, some bad. First, your spouse has no idea what size you wear. Every man who came into the store to shop for their wife or girlfriend all said the same thing when asked: “She is about your size.” When the woman returned the items, you would learn the man was wildly off. So, women, quit worrying about your size. The man in your life is clueless. The second thing I learned was that people often don’t make eye contact or acknowledge retail workers. It is weird. No, “Hi, how are you?,” no response to questions asked. That is the reason that I go out of my way to be nice to retail workers.
I then had a career in the financial services industry and learned lots of things, but somehow none of them seem to penetrate my dreams. I spent more time in that job than anywhere else and, to be honest, worked harder, but nothing ever seeps into my midnight musings.
Here’s the dream. I pull up to Babies-R-Us (I know they are out of business) to work my shift. I am 62, so I am dreaming in real-time. I open the door, and the district manager greets me with “Our stock price has dropped by 50%, so I took down all of the displays. No one is going to shop here today.” In my dream, I am startled, not by the news of the stock price but by the missing displays and the stupidity of the district manager. I reply that no one who is buying diapers cares about the stock price, and we better get the displays set back up so people know we are open. I wake up while I am setting up the displays. End of dream!
What does this mean? This dream does not fall into the nine most common dream categories according to Google. Nor am I dreaming about water, wind, fire or dying which apparently are all symbolic, so I am left to analyze this on my own.
First, why would I be working in retail at 62? It was my first real job, and I was good at it. I won sales awards and even though it was hard on my feet, I liked the challenge of starting at $0 every day. The stock price comment is easy. After all my years working in the financial services industry, I know the best time to buy stocks is when the market is in a down cycle. My dismissal of the district manager. Hmm. That’s easy, too. I’ve always had a problem with authority. Plus, I know shoppers couldn’t care less about the stock price of a company. And, pulling together the displays, well of course I would fix the problem. Wouldn’t you? But why do I keep having the dream? What is the message?
Help me! Or not! Regardless, peace my peeps and pleasant dreams.
