The dream was a musical.
I was singing the What If song to a woman who was having her own career crisis. I think it may have been Margaret the Waitress from Perkins, who I saw at the KCC show last night. (She was actually having something of a job/career crisis, but of the three of us that were talking, she was the only one with a current job. A bit of irony there.)
Okay, I get the obvious career crisis issues, but WTF with a musical? Since when do I sing in my dreams? The only real singing I do is when I sing to Sadie stupid little pet songs. It may have been more a backdoor into my performance mindset, and might be trying to break something loose in the out-of-the-box thing of my brain, trying to open up avenues that I've previously not considered as a career path.
Yeah, probably not.
There are a whole lot of people getting squeezed out of work right now, with most trying to squeeze back in. Hell, I don't want to work. I want to play and get paid for it. I want to be creative and technical, and make cool things that people like, things that enrich their lives in some way. I'd rather be independently wealthy and have deep pockets with the ability to weather economic storms, and have made that money in some guilt-free way (not on the backs of the rubes).
In theory, I should be in high demand. I have some serious talents and skills, boatloads of experience, and I'm not a supercranky stuffed shirt. But you know what? Those things don't really matter to the hiring kind. They want a narrow, deep skillset in someone quiet, quick, and consistent. They want an automaton that is predictable. They want a toaster.
I am not a toaster.
But what am I?