Dream of: 12 May 2004 "Zyprexa"
I had gone to a law office where both my mother and my father had recently begun working. Desks were located around the room. I sat down in a chair in front of my mother's small desk. She was sitting on the other side of the desk. My father was sitting at his desk about three meters away. Both only looked about 50 years old.
Neither were lawyers. My mother worked in accounting and I wasn't exactly sure what my father did.
Some baubles were sitting on a little table next to my mother's desk. I picked up a box which contained a robot. It was an advertising device, put out by some company. I took the robot (about 30 centimeters tall) out of the box and looked at it. I liked it. Its head had indistinct features, but could move. The head was like a piece of rubber with something moving underneath it. I was able to move something which made the face move. I put it back down.
People were coming and going at my mothers' desk. She had only worked there about a week. Some people even sat down at the desk.
My mother had some pamphlets on her desk about the budget of the city Dallas. I thought I would like to know more about the budget. Even though I probably wouldn't be living much longer in the Dallas area, I would still like to know. This might even be a good way to get to know people. I felt as if I needed to begin meeting more people involved with other groups.
At the moment, however, my main concern was my mother. About a week earlier she had stopped taking the drug Zyprexa because she thought it was making her nauseous. Her doctor (Ashraf Nassef) had suggested that she stop the drug for a while and that she start taking another drug after a week. I could tell she was becoming more agitated, although not angry. I was concerned she might start behaving wildly there and jeopardize her job.
I stood and walked over to my father and sat down in front of his desk. I began talking to him about my mother and the Zyprexa. I explained that doctor Nassef had suggested that she stop taking the drug to see if she still became sick, and that we had a second drug which she could start taking. My father listened, but he didn't seem to be particularly interested in what I was saying. He seemed more preoccupied with his job.
Copyright 2012 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
