December 24, 1999:

Misty decorated Mucha for Christmas--there was a ribbon around her neck, with a bow on top of her head, and ribbons wound around each of her legs, like the ribbons on ballet dancers' shoes. It only stayed on a few minutes, though, before she tore them off. She looked wonderful, though, like a package decorated in peppermint striped ribbons.

There was something about the office moving and T. getting a huge new office, or rather, moving into a large empty room, one side of it, with no one else in the room at all. It seemed strange to me.

Someone was asking if the monitors had been checked for viruses, and there were all these little Apple Mac clocks, and I wanted to steal one, but I was too timid.

December 22, 1999:

I was having deja vu about something that was happening--events were taking over and I knew that I was going to die, as I had every time in the past, but I was going to try to see if I could make different things happen, and I said to someone, "Do you believe that you can change history?"

December 21, 1999:

Someone had a diorama of tiny dinosaurs, and it came to life. I was worried about them because I couldn't figure out how to get the top off, and I was afraid that they'd starve to death.

Then I was in someone's office. There was a big aquarium there, full of fish, and then there was some sort of celebration involving fireworks and things being blown out of the aquarium--big things, things that were the size of logs. I suggest that perhaps that isn't the best idea, and the person whose office it is reluctantly agrees.

My mother was trying to convince me to take a digital camera class. I didn't think I needed one, but I was thinking about it.

I was standing outside an elevator, and someone was showing me their resume. It was taller and slimmer than a regular piece of paper, and orange. I was suggesting to them that perhaps it would be better if it was more like most other resumes, that maybe it wasn't a good idea to stand out quite so much, or in quite that way.

I got onto the elevator, along with several other people. The others got off, but I continued on. Then, suddenly, the elevator started to drop. I tried pushing buttons, but nothing made it stop, and I was wishing that I had gotten off on the other floor with the other people.

Somehow, I made myself wake up before the elevator reached the bottom.

December 19, 1999:

I was offered a job, which I accepted, but I didn't realize until I started that it was going to involve distributing cocaine--putting it in little transparent envelopes and sealing it up. So I told them I was going to have to decline. I didn't have any particular moral qualms about it, but I didn't want to be arrested.

December 16, 1999

I was in a bar with a friend, and he handed me his baby to hold while he went up to the bar to order drinks. The baby was tiny, still in swaddling. I walked a little ways away with the baby, and looked down at her, and she said something to me. I didn't hear her, and said, "What?" and she said, "I love you."

I walked over to my friend and said, "Can this baby talk?" and he said no, she's not old enough, why? and I said, "I think she just told me she loves me."

He took the baby from me and walked away to a corner of the restaurant, talking to her and trying to get her to talk to him.

December 15, 1999:

I was with a surgeon who did plastic surgery on children with facial deformities. He couldn't operate on all the children who needed it, so he had held some sort of contest or lottery, and operated on the ten children who won. He was showing before-and-after photographs, and they were all very impressive.

December 6, 1999:

I was at a party, having arrived there with two friends. The party was ending, and we left the house and were walking to the car. They're walking ahead of me, and on the sidewalk is a small brown dog with a short, glossy coat. He flips over on his back so I can rub his stomach. I stop, bend down to pet him, and he starts to talk to me. I can't remember what he said, but he seemed to be giving me a list of things that he liked.

I reluctantly left him and walked on down the sidewalk, where I found a small black and white kitten. I picked her up and carried her with me, then became worried that I was carrying her away from where she lived and she wouldn't b able to find her way back. Then I realize that when I get to the car, my friends will drive us back and I can leave her where I picked her up.

When I reach the part of the street where the car was parked, it's gone. I think I must have the place wrong, so I look around, but it's nowhere to be found. I realize that my friends have left without me. I think surely they'll remember and come back for me, but I wait, and they don't. It's 6:00 a.m. by now. I've been up all night. I go to someone's house thinking I'll call my father to come pick me up. The house is full of people, and I suddenly remember that I'm supposed to have a job interview.

The people who are going to interview me call me on the phone, but the people in the house are so loud that I can't understand anything that's said. I ask if I can call them back, and they give me a phone number, but I write it down wrong, and I forget to get their name, so I can't look them up in the phone book.

So I figure I might as well call my father to pick me up now, but I'm worried that the house will be hard to find, and I don't know how to give him directions. I start walking around, looking for landmarks. It's a rich part of town; there is a young boy on a pony in one yard, and a set of pillars in another. There's also some sort of huge theme park or something, and someone tells me to tell him just to look for that. I take my camera with me and think about taking pictures of the pillars.

In another dream, I'm in a hotel and there's a blue and green caterpillar as big as a cat. Someone wants to kill it, but I ask them not to, at least not until I've had a chance to take a picture. But I can't find my camera and I worry that it will get away before I can take a picture of it.

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Copyright © 1999 Willa G. Cline