I dreamed I was in a big room charged with removing all the old stuff from the walls. These old posters and educational prompts were thumb-tacked into the wall going right up to the ceiling. This was supposedly at FaithAction, but it wasn't my work now-- we don't have such a room. At one point, I woke up and realized that I wasn't dreaming about any space we have at my work. In fact, I don't recognize the room from anywhere. It did occur to me, both in the dream and out, that when you have things on the walls, they become invisible after some time.

This is what happened to the messages at work about making sure the water was off at the tap and that the toilet had stopped running water. But it's true for all sorts of signs and pictures. In fact, even things that aren't on walls become invisible. There's a beach towel half-draped over the window to my left. Its purpose was to block out the sun coming in during the afternoon. But I haven't sat in this chair in the afternoon for months and months. And the towel has become invisible until now.

I've FELT invisible at times. It happened to me again at the Rotary Club Christmas party. There are several members that I am already speaking to, greeting, exchanging pleasantries with, on the path to becoming at least nodding acquaintances. But there are a few that, while they know me, did not introduce me to their wives, and did not acknowledge my existence. From the Emily Post point of view, that is a failure of the hostess, whose job it is to introduce people around, to make sure that people know each other. In large parties, the hostess is supposed to simply make sure you are connected with SOMEONE that you're likely to talk to. But in a party that size, there should have been some effort made to see that everyone was introduced to everyone else. As some of you know, I'm pretty fearless about introducing myself and talking to strangers. But I'm also capable of freezing...and just not able to pull it off. When I'm aware of feeling invisible, that's when the paralysis sets in.

This happens to me less and less lately, fortunately.

When I left my dream, I had finished getting all the stuff off the walls and was rolling up sleeves to start painting. I wish I could remember all the details, though. There was an emotional content, there were people I know but are not connected with work, there was some sort of opposition going on, I think...

Natasha comes in tomorrow. After noon on Thursday, I've got 10 days off. Well, sort of... I have a couple of things I need to get done while the office is empty, so I'll probably sneak in when Natasha leaves on the 28th.

Merry Christmas everybody.