The Mousetrap

I dreamed that the  Bricks at work were under construction and that the courtyard was crowded with all kinds of rickety wooden ramps and Escher-like staircases leading nowhere.  It looked like a giant game of Mousetrap built out of old scenery and salvaged lumber. I kept trying to lead people to the Administration Building reception desk and getting lost. I'd lose my charges as well. One of them was a young,  very hot Gregory Peck, who had worked at the Festival in the past and wanted a tour.  I got us hopelessly lost. Another was Joe Porto.  Joe and I watched while a team of guys pried out the Green Show stage, revealing a huge pit underneath.  Finally I was trying to escort a young girl who worked in the costume shop.  She was way too young to be working;  she had to scramble up the steps like a toddler and I had to stay right behind her to catch her if she fell.

It was not unlike last year when I was trying to find my way around backstage in the Elizabethan Theatre in the dark, but on a larger scale and much more dangerous.

Clearly, I feel lost at work, like I can no longer find my way. And, I must feel like the Green Show is over for me? Or something like that?

Me and my fucked up anxiety dreams.  They grow more vivid and frequent with each passing year.