A Perfect Dream

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Last night I had the most amazing dream that perfectly encapsulated my time working in IT and really a large portion of my life. Before I get into it I need to quantify it somewhat with the following: I almost never dream or really even think of my times past working for First Union – Wachovia – Wells Fargo. Forgive the hyphenation. To me it’s largely the same community and occupies the same address in my memory.

Most nights in my dream state I’m either writing songs with Elvis Costello, making epic Spielberg – esque film works or communing with my father who passed on years ago. I don’t use term, “dead” because to me, in my inner most reality, he’s more alive and more a part of my psyche than ever. Strange I know, but I digress.

In this dream I was putting the final touches on a shelf and a half of books I was planning to leave behind in an upper mezzanine of other shelf’s of books at the bank. It was Wells Fargo, but it really looked more like eChannels floors converted to a sort of library.

Now on these shelves of mine were all manner of books in various stages of use. Some were Japanese manga series still in plastic. There was the very same Japanese language book for children to learn to read katakana which a tutor once got for me in Japan. Keiko I think it was. There were also books written in Spanish and English.

There were also tapes and cd’s on the smaller shelf. One CD which I picked up and examined was a home produced album from my friends band, Borghal Rantipole. It lacked the front slip cover and someone had drawn 4 dudes faces staring up from the cd in black sharpie.

Nearby on a table there was a table where someone had made a pleasant country scene with a farm, barns, horses, chickens and Sasquatch peering over a brown stained rail fence.

In a moment it occurred to me that these shelves were memories I was consigning to the past as I move into a new chapter.

Now, fully two years removed from the Information Technology field and back at night school training for what’s next (more on that another time) I really just never think of IT, at least consciously. On the whole I’m slightly ambivalent about it I supposed. At times my work there was both esteemed and at other times woefully taken for granted, but I suspect that’s most peoples experience at most jobs. I walked away with no hard feelings and mostly just thankful for gainful employment for so many years.

I do, however still really miss the people. It was an eclectic community of diverse individuals whom I respected and valued as a formative part of my life.

Some, I follow from time to time on social media, but most reside strictly in memory. This dream, this perfect dream created such poignant snapshot for the old photo album of memory I just wanted to share it along with my thanks. I hope you are all doing wonderful!