Dream a little dream

It's a rainy Thursday afternoon.  I'm cozied up on the couch and thinking to myself  I have really worked the system today and I'm loving every minute of it.  Over the last week, I have really been trying to improve my morning arrival time at the office... I'm usually a 9 o-clocker.  So I roll my sleepy-eyed self out of bed and typically peruse the internet for a couple of minutes while I wake up.  To my surprise this morning, I received an email saying a couple of on-line purchases were to be delivered today.  I had a hot date with UPS guy, and his timing couldn't have been better.  I used this opportunity to sneak out of the office at lunchtime, while I wait, and wait, and wait for him to arrive.  I needed this quality couch time.  I'm not sure if it's the effects of almost another full work week gone by or just the effects of last night's happy hour, but today, saying I am dragging is an understatement.

So about last night.  A friend of mine and I took our old boss out for drinks to celebrate his birthday.  We do this... often... well, not the birthday part, but drinks definitely.  We make quite the interesting threesome.  We all still work at the same company, where he's still a VP and my friend and I aren't quite there yet.  We drink and carouse and carry on highly inappropriate conversations.  He gives us career advice, we give him career advice.  He gives us relationship advice, we give him relationship advice.  He flirts with us shamelessly, we flirt with him shamelessly... have I mentioned he's married, with kids?  We're not.  These happy hours are always entertaining, and last night certainly didn't disappoint.  For some added intrigue, I had to relay to him the dream I had the night before.

Are we all dreamers?  In theory yes, but not all of us have that knack of remembering them when we wake.  In fact, if you were to ask me, I'd say I dream maybe once a year.  That's as often as I remember them.  Usually, when I have a dream, it's more like a nightmare, which often wakes me up in the middle of the night, and coincidentally, I find that I have to go to bathroom, so the timing of the nightmare couldn't have been more convenient.  Would I classify this particular dream as nightmarish?  That's debatable.  Do you consider making out with your boss a nightmare?  Perhaps, I should start at the beginning.  So the dream begins with aforementioned VP showing me his boat, which apparently he has one.  This is a sizable Atlantic cabin cruiser that has been conveniently relocated to a local lake.  Somehow, the tour of the boat leads to frolicking in the water.  Romantic except that at some point, the frolicking turns into him drowning me.  He's keeping me submerged just below the surface, and appears to not realize that this is a problem.  At some point during my struggle, I wake up... then head to the bathroom.

When I head to work yesterday, the dream is still fresh in my mind.  I could barely compose myself when, to my surprise, he appears in an early morning meeting and sits down next to me.  At the happy hour, he later admits to checking out my ass as I walked passed him to head back to my desk.  Nice.  Late morning, he calls (work related), but casually asks before hanging up if we're still on (speak of the devil, he just called me).  The whole conversation seems very illicit to me.  I was joking with my friend, who was threatening to ditch us for a date, that she shouldn't leave me alone with him.  I was in a strange mood that day, and after a couple of beers, might wind up making out with him in the parking lot as he subtly tries to shove me in front of a train.  She did leave us early last night, and he did walk me to my car.  But alas, I was not in a dream, my feet were firmly planted on the ground, so I proceeded to bid him goodnight and head on home.  Did I think about doing otherwise?  That's a given.  I often have, but I'm pretty sure I would never act on any of it.  My friend, being the good friend that she is, gave me a mental image that has ruined him for me forever.  Nothing like the ill-appeal of a pair of boxer shorts and sock suspenders to kill the mood.  I did say she was a good friend, didn't I?