Dream

I accepted a new job offer on 3/13. A year ago, I never would have imagined I’d be lying in bed in the middle of Manhattan, staring out of a large window into a city I’ve only explored 17% of, a new job in a building I’d only seen in movies.

I used to argue with an ex about moving to NYC. She always wanted to, and I was so against it. “It’s too dangerous.” “It’s too expensive.” “I won’t always be able to walk you home at night.”
Now here I am, loving every second of it. I still don’t let my date walk home alone. I even bought her mace recently—which isn’t the easiest thing to get here.

I had a dream this morning, and I think it reflects everything that’s changed in the last six months.

In the dream, I was following a small fish, one that seemed to be guiding me. It had to leave its home pond and couldn’t go back. I followed it to a new pond, but just before it reached safety, a larger fish swallowed it whole.

I fought this larger fish, cutting it open to free the one I had been following. I managed to save it, but in the process, my nails were torn back—something straight out of a gory movie. The dream ended with the guiding fish alive, but the experience was unsettling.

I am all three figures in that dream—the one being led, the one doing the consuming, and the one fighting to be freed.