Rumiko was ripping me out. She’d finally seen through it all – the façade of intelligence and hard work to the core of disguise and laziness. This was it, the sham was up, college was over. But wait, the night before the dean had tossed me out the door with a thunderous deep voice warning me never to return. And the night before that my boss had kicked me to the curb with for-shame.
Oh, that’s right, this is a dream. I reached out to the scene playing out before me, Rumiko’s crowded office with it’s west-facing windows and book lined walls, her standing indignantly by her desk, the cars passing beyond the building. I reached out and touched the flat surface of it, like a movie screen. I pulled it forward, like pulling a dust cloth from a piece of furniture and it became tiny in my hand, no bigger than a sheet of paper. I crumpled it up and tossed it over my shoulder.
Then I turned and walked away, crossing the threshold into another dream, a more useful dream, one in which I contemplated a new schematic design solution for my thesis project. As I dragged myself up out of the nap, kicking to the surface, I realized that hey, that just might work. I searched for a notebook and pen.
This was Monday, the day before my ass kicking review. Yes, I got my ass kicked, but not to the curb. The dean still likes me and my boss is still pleased with my work. But I know what the dreams are about. Heaven above, the end is in sight. Am I actually going to finish this thing? And then what? Oh, beautiful fear of the unknown.
I was just starting to get comfortable here. Maybe I could stay a while, but sabotaging myself is not the answer. No, no, it’s time to move on. So I’ll crumple up that urge and toss it over my shoulder and walk into something more useful.
I’ve been here way too long.