Dream journal entry #6
03/26/2014 03:02 p.m.
This dream was a swirl of disparate images and confused storylines. I could start anywhere while describing it, so I'll begin with a rather tense meeting.

The two men I was meeting with had hired me as a home health care attendant whose job was to focus on positive reinforcement as a means of modifying a client's difficult personality and antisocial behaviors. They were concerned because I hadn't provided any written material to back up my work or to help them understand my expertise in this field. But I knew what I was doing--personally interacting with a client in an honest, reinforcing manner that drew upon mutual respect and interpersonal insight to draw the client out and help mitigate some specific (and rather cantankerous) attitudes. The two men in charge of this project had their doubts but seemed to trust me. Or perhaps they'd just made a decision to trust me despite their greater misgivings. I'd already been working for them for quite some time and didn't like them any better than they liked me.

Later, I was with a woman I was dating (she's almost entirely anonymous within the dream, completely generic). We were meeting her father, who was wearing a bright purple (or sometimes red) suit coat. Apparently he was a very important man, and carried himself as such. As we were leaving his hotel room, we ran into the other two men, the ones who had hired my services. They were surprised to see me with this man because he was their boss. This meant they had to take it easy on me, but they also had to answer to him if I was unsuccessful or turned out to be unqualified for the job. You could see in their eyes that this was a problem.

What resulted from this chance meeting was that I was now required to do a better job cleaning, scrubbing, and mopping the floors in a wide range of settings. Mostly I was on my hands and knees with a scrub brush. And the locales where this occurred varied dramatically. For instance, at one point I'm scrubbing the steps and basement floor of an apartment building; at another, I'm scrubbing the floor of an old-fashioned drug store, working around the feet of the propriator as he stood by the cash register talking to a customer. This went on for quite awhile, and I felt exhausted. Somewhat later, I found myself using a pressure washer to remove snow and ice from someone's back walkway. As I worked my way toward the driveway of the detached garage out back, I noticed a large stretch of jagged black rocks sticking up from the ground, dividing the backyard from the area around the garage. These tall rocks needed to be cleaned and polished, so I took intricate care in performing this task, which I seemed to enjoy, losing myself in the process.

Before I finished, though, I found myself creeping around in a different backyard. It was now dusk. I heard people coming out of the house so I quickly hid in the bushes, watching these people from a distance as I hid. It was two women, one of whom was younger and appeared to be the other woman's daughter. She was tall with long dark hair, holding a baby in her arms. The older woman was short and stout; she appeared to be around 60 and had a matronly look about her. They were talking casually, not looking in my direction, so I began sneaking out of the yard, remaining in the bushes as I did so. Once I was out front, I started to run. But this neighborhood, which had originally been a suburban housing tract, unexpectedly became an ocean front beach. It was difficult to continue running because my feet were sinking into the sand. Someone, I think it was a man, spotted me and was running out to see what I was up to. Or to greet me--I didn't know which. Was this good or bad? I was hoping for good, but it was too dark for me to read this person's facial expressions. He called out to me but his words were indecipherable, as was the tone of his voice.

Then I was back with my client, who lived in an assisted living complex. He was an old guy with alcohol issues. In fact, he was my real life father-in-law (long since deceased). We got along pretty well, but he didn't pay much attention to me unless he needed something. At one point, he asked me to fetch an item from his locker out in the public hallway. When I went to do this, I discovered there was a bustling cafeteria right outside his room. Everybody was happy here, staff and residents alike. Just beyond this was a bait shop. In this facility, someone told me, the staff believed their residents should be able to go fishing whenever they wish, so the bait was free of charge and fishing gear was always available for those who had none of their own. Just beyond this was my client's locker, but I was unable to open its lock. Something important, like a circuit board, was in here, but it was inaccessible. This troubled me.

Next thing I knew, I was outside, fishing in a body of water that lapped at the curb right in front of the assisted living building. It was neither a lake nor a stream, but it was water we could fish in. The sun was high in the sky and there were only a few small trees at the water's edge. It felt like spring. A number of people stood on the sidewalk casting their lines; some were reeling in fish. I noticed one person had cast her line into a tree and caught a squirrel. She asked me for help, but then, unexpectedly, it became my line and the squirrel absolutely did not want to give up the bait. This resulted in something like an argument between me and the squirrel. Then I woke up.