11:56 PM - 01.04.05
Falling Stars
April Fool indeed. That seemed to underpin the whole day thematically, even though it is the trickster who is said to be the fool if the joke is played after noon. Someone forgot to tell them that.
First up was the very long, detailed nightmare that visited me last night. It seemed as though someone had planted a bomb in Canada's Parliament Building, right in the center of the House of Commons. It went off while parliament was in session killing everyone who was in the chamber at the time, including all the spectators in the gallery. Most of those were school children and their teachers/chaperones. There were bits of body parts all over. I could smell the blood, the burning flesh and hear the screams of the dying, while watching the emergency personnel and the soldiers comb through the rubble searching for survivors. There were none to be found. I tried to wake out of the dream, but instead found myself on the telephone talking to one of my colleagues, who works for Elections Canada in Ottawa, about my assignment. That building isn't far from the Parliament Buildings. We heard the explosion and resulting commotion as people raced to help. Suddenly, the person at the other end of the phone line became very frightened. Their voice changed to that monotone of someone looking at their own mortal danger. They said there was a whole army of people in masks carrying military grade assault rifles hunting staff throughout the halls and the building. I suggested they hide in the large recycle bin in their office - just covering themselves with paper. I told them to leave their telephone off the hook, but just barely so that I could hear what was happening while I called the RCMP on my other line to alert them to what was happening. As I was explaining what was going on to the local detachment and listening to them give the orders to send officers to the Elections Canada building, I also heard some people enter the room where my colleague was hiding. I told the RCMP officer what was happening and they asked me to provide a word for word account of what I could hear.
At that point I tried to escape the dream again. It was evident that, not only had they found that person, but that they were torturing him to try and gain some information that they wanted immediately. They were speaking in a language that I didn't recognize exactly, panic setting in, but which I could manage to repeat phonetically so that a record of what was going on could be made for later investigation. Having worked with survivors of torture and Amnesty International, I could tell by the sounds exactly what was being done to my colleague and it was unbearable, even though I knew it was important to stay on the line. I kept wondering why the soldiers who are normally stationed there weren't protecting the staff, but I guess they must have been told to go to the Parliament building to provide assistance.
I must have been showing significant distress in my sleep, because I could feel the cats in my bedroom all coming and lying around me for comfort, purring in an attempt to calm me down. Even though I was aware of their presence, I still couldn't pull out of the dream state. When one has flashbacks from traumatic events in one's life, one of the techniques used to reassert the here and now is to try and re-estabish physical contact with something in the immediate environment that wasn't part of the trauma. The cats seemed to know that and yet I was still trapped in that reality. I couldn't understand that, but I think, in retrospect, that the sense that I could and should do everything in my power to protect the country from being completely destabilized held me there. Pretty big for my britches,eh? Believe me, I didn't feel anything other than pure fear. My heart was beating so hard and fast I thought it might just break through the chest wall.
At that point it seemed that it dawned on me, and many other people involved, that the hunt and murder of the head office election staff was intentional, so that it would be nearly impossible to hold an election that upheld all the requirements of our laws. For one thing, after a suitable period of mourning, each political party would have to replace it's leaders and their elected members before anything could be done. That meant that technically our country would be without any elected leadership likely for several months. In the interim, each Returning Officer, each on their own, would have to try and conduct voting riding by riding. It was already known that the homes of some Returning Officers had been visited by the members of the group who had bombed our government. They had taken family members or the Officers themselves hostage. My first thought was to get my sons and the cats out safely, without compromising anyone else's safety. Managed that after a lot of begging and pleading, then continued talking with all my other colleagues locally and the law enforement agencies that would have to provide the security so that we could take the vote. I usually use the local schools as polling stations so that the money paid out for rental goes back into education and the students can see first hand why voting is important - at least that has always been part of my goals. I was still struggling to get out of the dream, but something forced me to stay present. A lot of discussion ensued. I decided that in my riding I would literally go door to door to collect ballots so that the only risk would be to me, rather than have a collective gathering anywhere that would be too easy to target. My feet were hurting and I was exhausted, but it worked with assistance from the city election office in terms of logistical support. The only good news was there wasn't a shred of extra fat left anywhere on my body by the time I was done. That sort of weight loss program I can do without.
At that point my radio came on. Goth music - Rammstein - very loud and gritty. Usually the cats let me listen to the first song or two before making me get up, but Ms Kitty obviously detested the music. I could hear her climb up to the top of the etagere near my bed. Then she jumped directly onto my head - buried as it was deep under the covers. I kept wishing that she had thought of that earlier. My youngest is still chuckling about that part of the story, even as I write. We both like Rammstein's music and understand enough German to catch the gist of his songs, but apparently we'll have to be a bit more selective when we choose where to play it.
I wasn't feeling either rested or healthy, but I decided I needed to go into work just to get completely away from the nightmare - it was still following me. Brushed my teeth and realized I had a mouthful of blood. Turned out one of my wisdom teeth had finally broken completely through the gum. I've had four impacted wisdom teeth that have given me a lot of trouble. My jaw and mouth are just too small for all that extra enamel. Problem is the cost of having them removed surgically, even just one, is considerably more than I can afford, especially if one adds in the lost wages for the time one should be off work after. The one that descended was on the top right hand side and it had been pressing against a nerve, so it was a real problem. The first good joke of the day I decided. The corresponding tooth on the lower right hand had also broken through last year, so one side of my face now looks less puffy and I can bite properly. The tooth in the upper left has gone back up into the gum and doesn't hurt, so maybe that is not so bad either. Three out of four problem teeth, dealt with all in one nightmare, isn't so bad. The women sitting behind me on the train were discussing their experiences with root canals and other forms of dental surgery, so I felt even better about things by the time I got to work.
I was still feeling really wobbly by the time I got to my desk this morning. I think I must have looked pretty green too, because the two women who work next to me both asked if I shouldn't have stayed home. When my supervisor emerged from her meeting around noon, she expressed the same concerns. "Go home early if you need to." Nope, if nothing else, the nightmare hadn't followed me to work and Fred, the ghost, must have decided to play tricks elsewhere.
My inbox was jammed with email, but the system was indicating it couldn't open any of it. Logged out and then back in again. Success. One response from the organizer of the special staff day in June. She liked my suggestion of a day of dancing instruction and asked if I would organize the details. Several emails back and forth clarifying some of the parameters of the task and I was good to go. Several more birthday cards circulating for signatures. About half the records staff seem to be of an Aries persuasion. Interesting.
One of my co-workers commented that I must have been really ill, knowing that I get paid by the hour for my presence on site. No sick pay. I responded that you can tell I'm really ill when I can't even make it in to see my chiropractor. One of the other women, who also has gone to see him, commented that I must feel better simply on the basis of how good looking he is - and he is. I pointed out that he is married with children, so that he is off limits - completely out of the question. Her comment gave a much better indication of why traditional marriage is falling apart - no respect for the integrity of the marriage bond by people outside of the union - than all the fooferaw around same sex marriages. Despite assertions otherwise, homosexuals are never going to marry people of the opposite sex, just by definition. Their unions pose no threat to the traditional family structure, because they would never become part of one any way. It is the disregard for the sanctity of the marriage bond in the heterosexual population and the active collusion to facilite the breaking of those vows that is the real culprit for a lot of the problems that lead to family breakdown. That and impossible financial and work pressures, along with a society that shows by its actions and investment of resources that it hates children unless there is a profit to be made from their presence somehow. Anyway, I tried to divert the line of discussion away from that kind of thinking by noting that I found one of the single Hollywood stars much more interesting. He knows how to dance and seems to enjoy it. The person who had made the original comments went off on how attractive she thought he was too and how eligible. Uh huh.
More worrisome was the fact that my paycheque still hadn't arrived from the placement agency I am employed through, even though they had guaranteed that I would be paid every Wednesday. I was too sick to really think of it overly much and also gave the benefit of the doubt to them because Friday and Monday were statutory holidays for postal workers. Easy to see how a delay could occur. However, when it still hadn't arrived at noon today, I called to find out why. Called all afternoon too, leaving a voicemail as well. No response, even though both agents have rarely let even an hour go by whenever I've called them before. Made me very nervous, especially since on the first of each month I have an automatic debit to pay my mortgage. Good thing I've filed my taxes and submitted my assignment and timesheets for the election work. Although nothing was said to me today by either the in house supervisor or the agency, the silence is all too common when a company is about to go under. I should know. I've seen it enough in most of my assignments to be fairly aware of the danger signals. April fool, two and three. Not happy one's either.
There was a job posted a couple of weeks back that I really regretted not knowing about, before I inteviewed for this position. I'm really quite happy with my circumstances now, but I have no way of knowing if the company I'm assigned to right now will take me on if the agency contract dissolves due to bankruptcy or a take over. There is very little protection for workers in this province, unless you are good buddies with the ruling political party. Since the deadline for applying for that job was today, I decided to submit my resume, even though it isn't really right to leave a job after only being there a month. However, I can't afford any more non paid time. The money from the tax refund and the election work are meant to catch up on my debts from the last bout of sickness/unemployment and to fix some of the really broken things in my home. Who knows, maybe I could even decide to get that one tooth dealt with. Then again, maybe I'm over-reacting and everything will have a simple explanation by Monday. Joker's wild on this one.
The trip home was a little bit stressful as a result, because I wanted to be certain I got that application submitted by email - the only way they are receiving resumes through that one job search site - before the access was disabled, deadline for applying being April 1st. Does that mean by the end of business hours or by midnight. I decided to forgo the stop at the grocery store on my way home, so I could get it sent before the end of the work day. In addition, the wind was so strong that I could barely stand upright or stay in one spot.l It blew everyone hither and yon who tried to walk against it. My youngest volunteered to go get the essentials - kibble - while I keyed in my cover letter. He said on his way home he saw a falling star over the northwest corner of the sky. I'm going to take that as a positive omen. Right now I'll take any good indication I can find. Right dear diary?
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