last night i dreamed that i’d been hired to be the production manager at a well-known chicago theatre company. i hadn’t officially started the job yet, but i was in the theatre building for some reason. one of the production staff took me aside. “there’s something you need to see,” she told me, and handed me a worn leather-bound journal. the journal turned out to be the secret diaries of the previous production manager. he’d had to write all these missives in secret, hidden in the closet or the basement or whatever, and they were all about how the theatre in question was a terrible place to work. after reading them i knew i had to get out, but how? i was trapped. it was all very harry potter.

it’s nice when at least my dreams are transparent.