It's cold and dark this morning. What do I expect, it's almost December. I'm still working downtown. At least I'm inside, though the smell of the sub basement is horrible. They say they've tested the air, but that was a week ago. It reeks like rotten eggs. I'm happy to be working, not happy to be cold, filthy, and in the gloom all the time. Sigh, enough of the pity party, I'm happy to be able to bank some cash, though I have no idea how long this will last.
Something bizarre happened last night. I had a slew of depressing dreams, then woke at about two in the morning. I lay in bed, full of worries (job, health, kids, friends, feeling trapped) and I imagined I was talking to The Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy) as if he were my therapist. I fell asleep and this became a dream. He interrupted me and said "Don't you remember? You set the game to "I am death incarnate" for the challenge. Just change the settings to "please don't hurt me." (These were the difficulty settings for Duke Nukem 3D, if I remember.) A sense of happiness and peace flooded over me. I relived my previous dreams, and this time, though not exactly happy, they were hopeful. The thing of it is that what gave me the sense of peace wasn't "changing the difficulty setting," it was the knowledge that I had chosen it myself.
Isn't the brain weird?