Merry-go-rounding

August 11th was my last day at Actors’ Equity, but I dreamt I was back. This time I was working in a different capacity and because of my former boss's terrible mood and jealousies, I wasn’t supposed to be seen. I had to sneak around the office and keep to myself.

But the office was at mama’s house in Miami. How desks for over 70 people fit into her tiny, one-level house, I can’t figure out—it was some kind of Escher-painting illusion. I stayed at mama’s, too. So I was eating, living, and sleeping at the same place where I now worked. When I’d wake up in the morning I couldn’t leave my room until first checking outside the window to make sure my former boss’s car wasn’t there yet. If it was, I had to wait for special escorts (of the incognito kind, not the sex kind) to take me to my office. This one morning he was there early, so the escorts came and took me to the front yard where I chatted with the human resources director. Her office was on mama’s porch and she liked to knit in a rocking chair there when she wasn’t busy with other work. It turned out my ex-boss was having a meeting with several producers in the backyard near the tool shed, which is where meetings were held on sunny days, and that’s why the escorts took me to the front of the house: people at opposite ends can’t see each other clearly.