Dream #22

I get fired let go from my desk job with a pink slip. I look down at it and realize that everyone around me has received the same paper. I pack up my desk into  an archive box and leave with an empty soul.  No one saw this coming.
I get on the ferry, with my box and look pathetic.
I come home to Michel and he sees the pink slip, offers me support and breaks out the calculator and starts crunching numbers, grimacing at the final number.
I pour myself a stiff drink and sit down in my chair. Soon I pass out.
A double exposure rises u from my form and walks to my drafting table, sits down and looks around.
Turn on a light, grab a file folder and flip through some designs.
I smile at a few as I flip through and then see on that strikes my interest. Turning on the light box, I lay it down and put a new piece of paper on it.
The marker glides over the cast image of the old on and the design is improved. I gain momentum, I work on the design with enthusiasm and passion, cleaning the lines and making it better. I work faster, a blur of motion like The Flash.
Michel comes downstairs into the room and sees tens of designs held up by clothespins on strings all over. I break out my sewing machine, my airbrush and my knife and continue to work. The sun goes through the window, rises and sets and still I continue to work.
I start making, sewing, painting, designing, refining at a pace I've never known.
I work and start selling out of my garage to a line up of people round the block.
One man, well dressed, sees my designs and gives me a card.
I'm delivering my tshirts and dresses to his shop with great enthusiasm.
I have my own studio. I have a staff. I'm surveying fabric and directing designers and tailors to do the work that needs being done. I smile the whole time with great joy.
I'm on a runway, watching my designs walk down the catwalk. It's Halifax, Hollywood style. I walk out to applause and cheer of my peers, still amazed that it's happening.
I wake from my chair and get up and walk to that same drafting table and open the same folder and just start working, less focus than the dream, less romance of ability. The sense of duty, work and dedication sets in, but I am unmoved.