weird dreams

Well, my not quite route has grown to 32 evaluated hours a week, and guess what that means? I get a day off every other week, WOOHOO!!! So today's my first day off that wasn't a sunday since i almost died BWAAHAAHAA. I feel very strange, and kinda lazy sleeping in on a weekday all the way to 9 am. Who would have thought that sleeping only to 9 would make me feel like I was wasting part of the day. I must be getting old or something. weird.

Anyway, I had a really weird dream just before I woke. It was weird for several reasons, first of all because I remember it at all. I typically do not sleep deeply enough to have dreams, and when I do they usually only leave vague impressions in my mind upon waking rather than actual memories of them. Secondly, It was weird because I was dreaming about working at my first movie theater, the one that is now a 24 hour fitness off of I-215. Why is that strange, you ask? It's hard to explain exactly why. You'd have to have worked there to know everything that was wrong with it.

So there I was, a manager in the theater I loved to hate working at, and for some reason I was selling tickets in the box office even though there were several concession people just standing around. All of the people I used to work with came through and bought tickets from me, usually saying something like "Oh yeah, I forgot you were a manager here." or "Wow, you're still working here after all these years?" one of them even asked "Didn't they tear this place down?"

Matt, Conner, Justin, Stephanie, Josh and his sister, I forget her name, manager Josh, Toni and Erik, which is strange because they got divorced like 8 years ago, Alan, Pepe, which is also strange because his army reserve unit got reactivated when the Iraq war started and he was killed when they were taking Bahgdad. None of the people I'm still in contact with came in. I suppose it's my subconscious telling me that I miss these people *shrug*.

Some other people came in, and thought I was being rude to them and started lecturing me. Sadly, this sort of thing happens to me quite often. I am not a people person. I am usually very reserved and guarded around people I don't know, and I tend to say things in as few words as possible to them, with my face completely blank. It's not exactly being shy, it's different. I also have a very hard time reading the facial expressions of people that I don't know for some reason. It takes me a while to figure out what expression means what emotion when i meet someone new. As you can imagine, this makes dating rather hard, and probably one of the larger reasons I'm still single.

There is a difference between rudeness and reserved brevity, but no one ever seems to understand that fact. I don't know why I am that way, I just am, and no one else in the entire world seems to understand or care. This is probably the reason that I currently have a job that does not require me to talk to people, and the few that I DO have to talk to get referred to a phone number as quickly as i can whip it out.

So anyway, they were arguing with me because they thought I was being rude. I never understood why anyone would want to be a complete douchebag and start an argument because the small, quiet guy didn't smile. so what? is that worth the effort of yelling at him over? what makes people think that they are being any less rude by throwing a tantrum? Why pick on someone who isn't doing anything to hurt you in any way? It doesn't make sense. This is one of the reasons that I really hate people in general. I always have, because I do not relate well to them and they don't understand me in teh slightest bit.

So, I was arguing with them, because I do get rather angry when people accuse me of being rude when I'm not being rude, and I woke up to sunlight pouring through my bedroom window. That dream just kept getting weirder and weirder. Why would I dream of that place at all, and why would I be doing that particular job there, when I clearly had another job to be doing? why wouldn't I dream of my favorite job in a theater rather than my least favorite one? Why would I dream of someone coming in and starting an argument with me because my personality doesn't quite fit into the mold of what people consider to be normal human behavior, which is something I absolutely hate? I'm sure a therapist could tell me volumes, but the times I've gone to therapy--required by the church after I came home from my mission half dead and 40 lbs lighter than I'd been a month earlier, and when the grief councilor wanted her very own sociopath to poke and prod at work--didn't turn out too well. I don't typically volunteer information about myself to strangers, especially if I resent having to be there in the first place.

That dream was just plain weird, and it got me to wondering where all of those people I dreamt about are now, except for the obvious dead one, I don't really wonder about him.

Anyway, I'm back to work on Spires of Infinity, and flying through it quickly. I'll be done with it by the end of the month, probably a lot sooner. The only thing I'm doing is fixing any grammar and punctuational errors that I catch while reading through, and making sure that continuity still holds with all of the changes that I made in the second draft, and fixing patches that are worded strangly or confusingly. It feels great to be on the final stretch. I'm really proud of this story. It turned out far better than I ever expected it to for something that I basically threw together in less than a week before I started outlining and writing it. It was awesome how this thing just fell into place so perfectly in so short a time. I normally have to spend a lot more time in planning and revisions. This one practically wrote itself.