June 26, 1999 I've moved into a new apartment building. The manager tells me that I can't have the key to my mailbox until the fax machine is fixed. I try to clarify that, and ask again, "I can't have my mail until the fax is fixed?" and the manager tells me that's correct. I ask, well, can I at least have a key to the front door? and they tell me that's not the front door, that's the back door. The front door is by the parking lot, and sometimes people come in that door, so we're not supposed to use it. I'm really worried about my mail . . . June 27, 1999 We've moved into our new building at work. I can't believe it was built so fast! Then the building starts literally moving, moving along the road, and I'm afraid that it's going to fall over, so I jump out, and watch it move along without me. It does fine, and it doesn't fall over, and it doesn't run over me. Then I was building a shrine at work, setting up shelves and filling them with my favorite books and decorative objects, beautiful stones, and dolls. Making the place my own. This is an interesting one. I decided that this was a premonition of my worrying at some point about staying with the company I'm with, and a reassurance that everything will be fine, that I don't need to worry, and that I should stay on board. Last Month | Next Month Home | Journal | Archives | Notification | Random | Resources Webcam | Dreams | Mood Swings | Tea Leaves | Forum | Natterwick Books | Music | Reflections | Guestbook | Postcards | Bio | Search Copyright © 1999 Willa G. Cline