3:33. That’s the exact moment I heard the snap and my eyes popped open. It was still dark everywhere. What else should I expect? It’s too early to get up so I thought further on the dream that had just awoken me so early, at 3:33 a.m.
It’s not unusual for me to wake up early. It’s happens a lot. Especially after these full-length movie type dreams. It beats the 1:05 wake up call I had several weeks ago, three mornings in a row. Every morning, 1:05.
It’s also not unusual for me to wake up at very odd precise times. 12:34, 1:23, 4:44. All early morning rise and shine moments in the past month for my tired soul. I don’t know what’s causing this to happen. Really, I have no idea. But it keeps happening.
5:55 a.m. That’s when I finally couldn’t stand laying in bed any more and I finally crept out carefully. My bedmate doesn’t like it when I get up before 5:00. So I always try and lay there extra quiet seeing how long I can stay still so I don’t wake her for the first time. She claims she has trouble falling back to sleep. Given she’s rarely up before 7:00 that seems highly improbable to me.
At least the dogs get up and keep me company, sort of. They need to hit the yard first and then fed their morning rations. After that they lay in my favorite chair and the top of the steps waiting for Momma to come. Sorry kids, you’re going to have to wait again for her this morning.
The real problem arises when I get up too early. Say before 4:00. It’s really too early for them to eat but they don’t know that. Use the backyard and then eat breakfast; that’s the way they do it every morning. But when it’s still dark out they believe they need to go back downstairs by Momma to sleep with her. Yeah right. Not happening you two. You’ve burned me on the “sleeping” trick one too many times.
The dream that woke me this morning was unusual as it starred me. Typically I am not involved in any of my longer dreams. Just the short ones. The ones that last a nano-second or so. At least in your own brain. This one was different; I played a key role this time. Not the starring role, mind you, but at least a key role.
It’s 6:54 on July 5th. I’ve been awake for more than three hours now. And I’m still trying to come up with a way to explain this dream where I don’t come off like the king-sized dork I am every day. I guess the best way is to lay it out there for my audience, so they can judge my supreme geekiness for themselves (and yes, I realize there’s no such word, but it fits so well).
A group of five people and myself were brought into a large manufacturing business to investigate a crime; the crime of theft. Someone had stolen a large sum of money from the massive manufacturing monolith and we had to find the thief and the amount. See, we were forensic experts – here it comes – forensic accountants. I already regret typing those words.
We were tasked with first coming up with an accurate expense total. We came in at $106,000. The business rep told us there was no way it could have been more than $65,000. Thus, $31,000 of erroneous expenses had been paid. That was what the thief got; we had to find the irregular invoices.
It bothered me this morning, after I was awake, that they would have brought in a team of six experts to find $31,000. That seemed improbable to me. But thinking deeper on the dream I realized we were using numbers typically found in external reporting. That made more sense. $31,000 is a lot of money when it’s stated in thousands. Meaning we weren’t looking for $31,000, but rather Thirty-one Million Dollars.
At least I was trying to help solve a large crime, something you could really sink your teeth into and take a big bite. Yes, I was still an accountant. Just, now an accountant with a purpose. That cuts back slightly on the dork factor, right? I know, I know; we can’t all have glamorous high profile professions. Some of us have to do the actual behind the scenes grunt work. I just didn’t realize when I was younger that would mean I’d be surrounded by nerds, fellow nerds, the rest of my life. Oh well, yet I digress.
The part of the dream that really bothered me was the fact I couldn’t get any cell phone reception in this place; this dark, dank, dingy unknown factory. You see, this was extremely problematic when you have a new girlfriend. Oh no! A girlfriend, what will my wife think?
In my defense I was much, much younger in the dream. Much younger. And I don’t believe I was married in my dream. So at least I have my ducks in a row on that count. Let’s be honest; I’ve been married 33 years later this month, all to the same woman. So we’re both secure enough in our relationship to separate dreams from real life. Plus, I can’t even tell you what this “girlfriend” looked like. She never materialized in the dream.
We, our team of six all equally dull accountants, finally identified the missing funds and fingered the crook. It was a sly woman. A woman who was in a highly trusted position at the giant company. A person beyond reproach, far above initial suspicion. And she was pissed; I mean really pissed. She threatened revenge to each of us – even death.
To go further would be to assume that anyone but an accountant would find this tale enthralling. If nothing I am a realist. I fully understand the profession I chose, oh so many years ago, is less than glamorous. But perhaps if I was on a forensic accounting team, jetting all over the world solving money crimes. Hmm; gives food for thought, perhaps.
This was a real dream I had last summer. It was long and complex. I still think about it every so often, even months later. This is how books come about. A small spark, fanned into a legitimate flame, that turns into a bright light to guide an author. At least that's how it seems to work for me.
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