winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Dream Team. Last night I had a dream and, in turn, a moment of clarity. Well, if you discount that part about my trying to buy out the Detroit Lions... and, yeah, that other part where I was running from my boss who was dressed as a kangaroo... oh, and probably that part about me sliding down that fireman�s pole, it was probably the most influential dream I�ve ever had. Shortly after my acquisitions meeting for the Lions, (and directly after the aforementioned fireman�s pole incident) I was standing on the football field looking at my new team. I worked my way through the crowd of people picking and choosing who would stay and who would go. There were some whose security on the team was merely based on whether or not I liked their number, while others got the nod based on the size of their hands and shoulders. Occasionally, I would recognize one of the players to be one of my family members or friends. This is where the moment of clarity came. It was in the ease with which I was able to toss them on the sideline or take them from first string to support teams. It felt so free. It felt so good. I didn�t feel, at all, like an emotional 7-year-old. I just pointed my finger and said, �YOU! Gone.� Having awakened so suddenly (after being chased by my Kangaroo-suit-wearing boss- I can only assume in his attempt to be the team�s mascot,) it took a few minutes to rationalize why some of were picked, why some were tossed and why some were simply demoted. I was not at all surprised by the deduction of RayRay from the team but I was surprised at how easily I tossed his mother, with whom I�ve always been close. Here�s another one that shook me: I kept my mother but gave my father his walking papers. Go figure. I moved Colin to the support teams despite his gargantuan hands- excellent, I thought, for gripping the ball. Still, this took me aback as I�d have thought that he�d have ended up treading astro-turf. Look at me not doing that. Christian�s mother was moved to first string, though she was looking a lot like a fragile Betty White in the dream. Then I did something that confuses me. Perhaps it shouldn�t because, as Christian has a tendency to remind me, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but I was concerned about why I demoted my sisters. I love my sisters. They are the bulk of what constitutes my support system in real life and I put them on the second string. I benched my sisters. I�m still not sure what that means or if it means anything at all. I just think it�s funny that I was taking inventory and how easy it was to clean house when I wasn�t invested in my victim�s mentality. I had no guilt or remorse for those walking off the field with their helmets tucked between their legs. None. There was no weighing of decisions, no pondering, no torturing myself. One glance and I knew where they were supposed to be. Now, I�m not going to go about restructuring my life in the same way but it is food for thought. �YOU. Yeah, you. You�re outta here! Hit the road! Get off my field! And for the rest of you- shape up or ship out.�
8:57 a.m. - 2002-11-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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