Click images for desktop size: "Just Not Right" by Wingless One I had a dream last night. I haven't been able to shake it all day. In the dream I was making a low budget movie. Shooting it on DVR. I had a check for financing in my wallet, a check from a friend for $11,200. The check was old and I was debating whether I should call him and tell him I was depositing it.
I decided not to bother him. I knew the check would be good.
I went to another producers office and I saw the rugs. I liked the rugs. Nice without being ostentatious.

I woke up in a sweat.
The dream upset me while it seemed so innocuous. Part of it was that their were so many actors in my film, actors who were friends from the past. Friends who are dead now. They seemed as alive as they ever were.
Some of the people were friends I've lost. Not because of a fight or a disagreement but just because sometimes friends drift apart. Some of them you can see again years later and only events separate you, the friendship is still real. And some friends you just never see again.
And the rest were old friends who I still have contact with, even if I don't see them. I don't really see anyone anymore.
Everyone acted like they always did. We worked on making our movie.

Part of the reason it upset me was something that happened at work. A kid I'd never seen before had been looking for me. He had a hard cast on his right forearm and thumb.
He introduced himself. He was nervous. He explained that he was a freshman at the Div IA school here. An RB. He wanted to work with me and my High School kids for a couple of weeks before school starts.
He's a pure Class 1 athlete, it was obvious. When we talked I thought and told him what I thought. I could take a tenth off his 40. He'd help drive my kids. He had speed and talent. (His stats in High School were 2000 yards and 30 TD's!) He could drive my kids and let them see what commitment and talent could bring to them.

What bothered me was the tingle of pride I felt. I wasn't proud that I could help him and he could help my kids. I was proud that this young man had spent time to search me out and humbled himself to ask for help. I didn't like that in myself.
Didn't like that at all. Its not something from my past or anything I'd felt before.
I don't want that kind of feeling to be my future.
All my life I believed that I was no better than anyone else. I also believed that none was better than me. All those people who for whatever nonsensical reason have to believe that they are superior because of race, speed, arbitrary interpretations of IQ soon find that reality comes with straight edge razors and no pity.
We;re all here. We're all on one team. Its a privilege to hold out a hand to help. Its a privilege to be able to accept help.
Most of my friends, at least my close friends, know this too.

The job hunt continues. Nothing positive yet. I think it is harder finding a nothing brain dead job than it is to find something I'm qualified for. A job I might be qualified for but that would shorten my life.
I'm not worried yet.
They've asked me to reconsider my resignation, but offered no real inducements other than letting things continue.
The possibility doesn't please me. It sounds like an excuse to be lazy and not try to move to a slightly better life for my puppy and myself.

My puppy had her annual check up. She's better than good. She behaved impeccably even with all the getting poked and stabbed. She never lost her sense of humor or her sense of decorum.
I love her a lot.
I like that everyone else does to.

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