The classics
I had a classic anxiety dream last night, one which made me laugh when I woke up. My colleague and good friend Julie and I had been at a library program with consultants from THE STATE (our ultimate bosses), and I think my boss was Mrs. Giusti (joosty). Mrs. Giusti was the Head of the Reference Dept. at the Providence Public Library, where I worked from 1977 to 1984. That was nearly 30 years ago. Anyway, I worked for her for a year before being promoted to Head of Cataloging, and didn't do very well. She ran a tight ship and was near the end of her career. She was never on desk. Being on the desk was really hard--we had homeless, mentally ill patrons, lots of bar bets, lots of homework questions (the culinary arts school of Johnson & Wales was in its infancy and those students had no library so they'd come in, wearing their chef's outfits and tell us "I have to write a 10-page paper on basil--what books do you have on that?" This was before the days of the Internet, so all we had were print sources. It wasn't fun to serve them), people who wanted us to do various tasks for them so they could come in and pick up the stuff. The phone rang constantly (PPL is the 2nd largest library in New England, with 600,000 volumes). Anyway, Mrs. Giusti didn't do much and there she was in my dream last night.

So after the program, which ended at 1:00 in the afternoon, we had the choice of going home or going back to work. I elected to drive back to work (we were far from work). I was going to give Julie a ride. When we got to my car it turned into the Fiat I owned when I first lived in Rhode Island--again, 30 years ago. That Fiat, though it was one of my favorite-ever cars, was a constant source of trouble for me. It wouldn't start when it rained or when the temp. dipped below 20. Well it was never intended to be the State Car of Rhode Island, after all. At one time there were 3 Fiats at the duplex I lived in (which was more like a commune, with lots of heavy drinking). ANYWAY--when we got into the car the steering wheel had been removed and was lying on the floor. I'd just had work done on the car--by Kane Motorcars, which was the place I first took my car to. They were one of the few places that did work on foreign cars, but mostly they worked on Jaguars, Mercedeses and really high-end cars. So there I was, no steering wheel. Couldn't get home or to work.

We were parked at the really fancy inn, so we went inside. They only had one rotary dial phone line but the good-looking and snooty man who owned the inn said I could use it. It was almost 5, which was when Kane would close, and I wanted to call them right away to come fix my car. Julie and I were stranded. I looked through the phone book a whole bunch of times, and sometimes I found the phone number but couldn't write it down correctly, or other times I couldn't find the K's in the book. Whenever I'd get the number (which was written down on the tiniest scrap of paper) the phone line wouldn't be free. The phone, meanwhile was just like the phone in my grandfather's entryway. Don't you love dreams?

So I struggled, fretted and was terribly upset. The owner was patient for a while (I must have tried the phone 20 times, mostly just interrupting other staff members using the phone to talk to each other: oh, the magic of technology). Finally he gave Julie and me some money as well as telling us we could each have 2 free drinks at the bar. By now it was after 5 but I was still determined to get in touch with Kane. On and on this went. I finally woke up with the alarm, and smiled at my inner self. So many details added to the dream based on what's been happening to me and what I've been thinking of, plus add the obvious frustration and obstacles I face. The phone part came from recent picturing of my grandfather's house, focusing on the desk in the entryway. There was one of those old-fashioned address books, the kind that was shaped like a steno pad, where you moved the indicator to the the letter you wanted and it popped open. I'm sure not very many remember those, but we used to play and play with it.

The car stuff? Well, all my adult life, since 1975 I have been totally dependent on my car. To get to work (I've always commuted at least half an hour), to live my life--I've never lived in a city or town, always far from commercial centers. Boy that makes me realize how I've set up my life, and what my obvious priority has been: no neighbors. I've finally achieved that, but there are 2 houses being built on my road, mostly for summer habitation, but they're expensive, year-round homes. I feel encroached upon. And that doesn't even include the trucks which insist on using my driveway, even moving the sawhorse I put in the middle of it to block their entrance.

So there you have it, in too-great detail. The other night I dreamed about traveling with my mother and being in a huge airport that turned into a huge mall, and not being able to find her. Anxious much? Apparently. I'm worried about my mental state: am I sad because my brother died, or do I keep crying because I'm depressed, and thus think of my brother's death all the time? I'm in an extremely obsessive state right now, which is just awful. I won't go into details, but just know that it's not like anything a normal person experiences. It's not healthy, and it's governing my life right now. I'm having a really hard time, but am doing what I can to fix this.

And today I'm the facilitator for a Work Flow Meeting for our staff. We're supposed to bring up issues that are inter-departmental and hash out solutions to problems. We have a box, like a suggestion box, in which people are to put their written issues and "desired outcomes." We have one issue that's been submitted. Apparently no one has anything that's bothering them--as if.

After that I have to write the revisions to the nightmare that is the Lost Items Procedures. I met with the director yesterday and of course she had lots of additions to it. Most of her stuff was good, but it's a pain to have to re-do the whole thing. She wants it reformatted, as well. Hey, I just do as I'm told.

This morning I had exact change when I got my coffee (I've been giving them $2 so I can get quarters in change--for the laundromat) and I remembered that the clerk's name is Barbara. I felt very proud of myself. Plus my next cup of coffee is the 7th one on my Coffee Club card, and is thus free. I've joined the ranks of people who leave their cards at the store, with their names on the card. I always thought this was the epitome of laziness, but now it makes me feel like part of a community. Apparently it doesn't take much to make me feel that way.

Yesterday I had lunch with my close friend Barb. She's one of the favorite friends I've ever had in my life, and we can go for months without talking to each other but pick up our close relationship right away. We've been friends since her daughter was 1 1/2 years old and Kristin is now a sophomore in college. Yikes. I remember vividly when her son was born and he's now a senior in high school. Double Yikes.

And now another cup of coffee so that I will talk really, really fast at the meeting. Watch out world!