  Dream therapy, downtown: Second day DT yesterday. This time at least everyone acted like I was somewhat supposed to be there. Instead of some sort of spy, they treated me like an out of town country cousin sent to learn about urban sophistication for the summer, whose ways were strange but quaint.
Or maybe a foreign exchange student. Next week I'm hoping I can maybe upgrade my role all the way to that of foster child dumped on snarky, materialistic, unsuspecting bachelor uncle- played by Keanu Reeves or Hugh Grant-- who teaches said uncle and all his cynical friends a thing or two about life, love and what it means to be human in this mixed up crazy world of ours. I'm learning fast-- when to jump into a conversation and when to just smile and nod (the smiling and nodding gets me teased for being "shy" but seems to earn me major points on the "niceness" scale.
) I'm learning why everyone seems to be perpetually running around with all their projects, even when they're not working on them, even the people who have their own desks and offices. The place is in constant chaos, like one of those football gameboards that works by turning it on and the whole thing vibrating and sending the figures on top of it cruising around to new positions, colliding with each other. I set three boxes down on a cart in the back room, being promised that the cart was "my workspace" and I could use it for the day. I was then dragged away from the cart to take advantage of another desk that had opened up to do some data entry.
Came back to the cart after lunch. Contents of cart had been redistributed as follows: 2 vases taken back out to sales floor (understandable I suppose, even though both clearly marked for anyone literate: "Please return to artist- NOT SELLABLE") 1 box to be shipped for repair relocated to store manager's desk (His comment: "Do you know what this is or why it's here? " I had half an answer for him, which seemed to be more than he was hoping for. ) 2 boxes to be transported to other stores vanished entirely.
I rescued the repair box and kept my trap shut about the rest. If it doesn't get dealt with I'm just figuring it will vibrate past me again next week. They all go running around, I'm going to take the radical approach of sitting still and just grabbing the stuff as it comes by me, trusting in the baggage carousel of fate. Otherwise I shall go mad. Like Chicken Little. Chicken Little on dishes in the break room: "Well, I'm washing all these dishes. But I am not going to deal with those . I do not deal with lipstick on coffee cups. I just do not . " Chicken Little on dream analysis: "I had a dream last night that Jamie got all mad at me cuz I kept spilling shit on her.
Like I was carrying around coffee or something and then I just kept dumping it down her front and she was all, 'Omigod! ' and pissed at me. And I just kept doing it. " I've only been down there a total of 14 hours but it is so far my assessment that everyone DT hates Chicken Little. Which I am all on board with. 
