I woke up anxious. It was the kind of morning where dreams blur reality. Where waking and sleeping seem one and the same for the first moments of consciousness. But not the kind of blur where you wake up in the arms of a long lost lover. Closer to the kind where you wake up to the kids in your class laughing because you showed up to the assembly naked.
And so I laid in bed, a pit in my stomach, replaying the dream over and over again…
Something was terribly wrong. I had sent my boss an assignment. The moment I sent it, something felt off. Did I send the right thing? I replayed the situation over and over again… in my dream… over and over and over. Perseverating in a daze. I felt trapped. I couldn’t get the email back. I couldn’t do anything but wait, knowing something bad was going to happen.
But in bed, wrapped tightly in my blanket praying the feeling would pass, I reasoned that there was nothing wrong. It was a dream and I was awake.
The hours passed. Work went by and by. I felt sick all day. Anxiety fractured my otherwise calm afternoon. I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was terribly wrong.
And then, with pride, I reported to my boss that an assignment had been completed. “Well, can I see the proof?” Um. It already went to print. I scrambled. Racing to and from my desk, contacting our printer, begging for them to stop the press. We reviewed the proof, and lo and behold a typo. I had screwed up. Not monumental – but monumental enough. With enough begging, we fixed what was wrong. It went out on time. It went out correct.
I felt it. I knew something bad was going to happen and it did. Oh go on, tell me I’m crazy. Lately the comments have been more and more scathing, but I’m not here to make friends, I guess. I’m just here to tell my story. Crazy or not, it’s my life.
I’m not saying I’m psychic, but something happened that day. The present and the future converged in a way that left me shaken. But aware. I need to start paying closer attention.