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Am taking a brief break from the obscene amount of work I requested in a vain attempt to make up for missing three days. Note to self: Requesting too much work with the rationale that, "You'll enjoy it when the money comes in," is foolish because it means actually having to do all that work by deadline. Jesus, sometimes I'm dumb.
But, I actually have conquered a goodly portion of the work (and a couple of what should have been 30 minute files were only five minutes), and so don't have to be in a complete panic tomorrow. I might even be able to get through what I was assigned for Monday and as such pick up some extra cash...
For whatever reason I slept obscenely late this morning, and snapped awake in utter despair. The last portion of the dream I had before waking had to do with being a member of a werewolf pack. I'd given birth to a child that was, for whatever reason (not a were, or something), unacceptable to the pack, and the Alpha ruled that the child be left to the elements. Rather than obeying, my mate and I bolted for it, disobedience punishable by severe beating and/or death, and the resulting dream was one of those true nightmares where you can never get any distance from your pursuers.
And with the implacable illogic of dreams, we somehow ended up in a massive palace/museum structure. The strongest images of the dream were bolting for an elevator, baby in my arms, six or seven men following us but too far to get to the elevator. Hastily trying to pick a floor, to figure out a strategy. Fingers trembling over the buttons. Heading first to the parking-basement, only to have the doors open on men across the parking structure, running at us. Heading for another floor, and another, and another, always met with the same vision - our pursuers coming at us.
Trapped in the elevator, more or less cornered at every floor, my mate proposed trying to lead one of the groups away from me by taking a bundle of the baby's clothes (for smell), and pretending that he'd abandoned me in an attempt to rescue his son. Even as we stripped the baby and tied him to my back, under my clothes, we knew that it was a useless idea and would only result in us dying seperately, rather than as a family, but we had to try it.
The elevator doors opened on a floor and he ran for it - not enough time to even say goodbye - and he took part of the group with him, but not enough. Not enough. I only made it a couple hundred yards before I was cornered, too. I remember slowly taking the baby from my back and holding him in my arms, looking down on his panicked, whimpering face, and crouching down, my back to the pack, wondering if I had the fortitude to break the baby's neck and spare him the less merciful death that was coming. Hearing my mate's scream as he was brought down...
And right then, I woke up.
It's one of those dreams that, horrible as it was, I wish I could experience again, just from the sheer drama of the thing, and to see what might have happened. I never...quite...get resolution in dreams. If it's a sex dream, I wake up during the foreplay. If it's a wish-fulfillment dream, I wake right before the wish is delivered. Of course, that also means I always wake up before the death blow, or before I hit the ground, too, but still.
My dream left me in a very moony funk for most of the afternoon. Which is just as well, as nobody was around anyway. I spent most of the day working. Not exciting, but true. I did get the good news from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
viandemifaust that we have the apartment, one way or the other, although it would be better if my pay stubs demonstrate that we don't need Mike's uncle on the lease, as well - but then, January was a very crappy month work-wise and I don't think my pay stubs are going to do much good. Which is kind of stupid, really, because I'm planning on getting a full-time hotel job down here, in addition to typing, but can't get it until I have a place to live, etc, etc, etc.
Yikes, must go to bed.
But, I actually have conquered a goodly portion of the work (and a couple of what should have been 30 minute files were only five minutes), and so don't have to be in a complete panic tomorrow. I might even be able to get through what I was assigned for Monday and as such pick up some extra cash...
For whatever reason I slept obscenely late this morning, and snapped awake in utter despair. The last portion of the dream I had before waking had to do with being a member of a werewolf pack. I'd given birth to a child that was, for whatever reason (not a were, or something), unacceptable to the pack, and the Alpha ruled that the child be left to the elements. Rather than obeying, my mate and I bolted for it, disobedience punishable by severe beating and/or death, and the resulting dream was one of those true nightmares where you can never get any distance from your pursuers.
And with the implacable illogic of dreams, we somehow ended up in a massive palace/museum structure. The strongest images of the dream were bolting for an elevator, baby in my arms, six or seven men following us but too far to get to the elevator. Hastily trying to pick a floor, to figure out a strategy. Fingers trembling over the buttons. Heading first to the parking-basement, only to have the doors open on men across the parking structure, running at us. Heading for another floor, and another, and another, always met with the same vision - our pursuers coming at us.
Trapped in the elevator, more or less cornered at every floor, my mate proposed trying to lead one of the groups away from me by taking a bundle of the baby's clothes (for smell), and pretending that he'd abandoned me in an attempt to rescue his son. Even as we stripped the baby and tied him to my back, under my clothes, we knew that it was a useless idea and would only result in us dying seperately, rather than as a family, but we had to try it.
The elevator doors opened on a floor and he ran for it - not enough time to even say goodbye - and he took part of the group with him, but not enough. Not enough. I only made it a couple hundred yards before I was cornered, too. I remember slowly taking the baby from my back and holding him in my arms, looking down on his panicked, whimpering face, and crouching down, my back to the pack, wondering if I had the fortitude to break the baby's neck and spare him the less merciful death that was coming. Hearing my mate's scream as he was brought down...
And right then, I woke up.
It's one of those dreams that, horrible as it was, I wish I could experience again, just from the sheer drama of the thing, and to see what might have happened. I never...quite...get resolution in dreams. If it's a sex dream, I wake up during the foreplay. If it's a wish-fulfillment dream, I wake right before the wish is delivered. Of course, that also means I always wake up before the death blow, or before I hit the ground, too, but still.
My dream left me in a very moony funk for most of the afternoon. Which is just as well, as nobody was around anyway. I spent most of the day working. Not exciting, but true. I did get the good news from
viandemifaust that we have the apartment, one way or the other, although it would be better if my pay stubs demonstrate that we don't need Mike's uncle on the lease, as well - but then, January was a very crappy month work-wise and I don't think my pay stubs are going to do much good. Which is kind of stupid, really, because I'm planning on getting a full-time hotel job down here, in addition to typing, but can't get it until I have a place to live, etc, etc, etc.Yikes, must go to bed.
