Monday, October 12, 2009
Generally, when I'm in the throes of a bad depression, my mind dredges up all kinds of old injustices, slights and enemies, and I dwell and dwell on these. A milligram of clonazepam generally shuts this stuff up, but it does also turn up in my dreams. Two nights ago, I dreamed yet again that I was still working for my last boss, since I apparently still haven't let go of despising her after a year and a half. Usually, the dreams are all confused: I'm working for her, but at NYU, not where I actually worked for her, and in some of them, I've already been let go but am working out my last couple of weeks and being treated terribly. But last night, I finally had one that made me smile: I guess I had already been let go or was on the verge of it, and she was bitching bitching bitching at me about something I supposedly hadn't done or hadn't done to her liking, and for some reason, she chose to explain herself by inviting me to touch her knee (as if trying to illustrate something, though I can't imagine what). Instead, I punched her right in the nose, yelled "I quit!" and stomped out of the building. Very satisfying.