I had a dream last night that I was doing stand-up comedy in a wood-paneled bar/cafe. The only bit I remember was how confounded I was that I had stumbled on the career path of Gabe Kaplan. Does this mean I will eventually star in a sitcom mirroring my sad existence, then be shuttled off to obsucre and seldom seen basketball films?
The work dreams I have aren't generally about jobs I want to have - they're about jobs I used to have. I no longer dream obsessively about not being prepared for the big test and being unable to remember my locker combination. Now they are "Brazil" infused nightmares of bureaucracy and middle management. Long hallways filled with paper - I try not to remember these when I wake up.
I didn't turn out to be Spiderman after all, but it was kind of a relief to find out just how cool everybody else seems to think he is. I didn't become a makeup artist in the style of Jack Pierce, but I'm happy to see that Rick Baker continues to find work since he won that contest in Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine. I didn't become a screenwriter, but I have a pair of scripts that I work on when I find the time.
I became a teacher. Now, back to work.
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