posted on Nov, 12 2012 @ 02:58 PM
It was an incredibly vivid dream. I was in a nice big, stylish office space with a sunny loft, skylights, and a balcony. People were moving boxes in
and out, sitting at their desks, answering phone calls. There were plants, bookshelves, desks overflowing with papers and computers -- all the items
one would associate with a busy, productive office.
"Wow, this place has changed a lot," said Eric. Eric, an ex-co-worker, was a large, handsome, muscular man with a crewcut. We were looking around
this office where we had worked together over a decade ago, during the dotcom boom, at a small startup that had gone bust shortly thereafter. "Hard
to believe its been ten years since we worked in this office." It had been a different company altogether, but the office space was the same. This
was a place where we had sweated and worked hard, trying our best to realize a dream, even though the dream was swept away in the popping of the
millenial tech boom. I felt the sharp pangs of nostalgia and memory that come when you see places and people from long ago.
Except: I had never in my real life seen this place, or any space remotely resembling it. I never knew anyone named "Eric" who looked like
the guy in my dream, and I've never worked at a startup company. In the dotcom years, I was a little girl in school, not a worker in a company. The
place, people, and memories were totally unfamiliar...yet vivid.
How could I have a dream like this, full of nostalgia for a place I've never been, a company I've never worked at, and co-workers I've never known?
It was so vivid, too. Are these somebody else's memories? If so, why were they in my dream?