lucid steer

I dreamed that after work I was training to be a cardiologist. My mentor was a new doctor with long light wavy hair. I was to come in and take over from her a couple afternoons a week. On the second day of my assignment, I was late. I may have been an hour late but maybe more like five hours. That’s because I had to stop at my brother’s birthday party and deliver two pieces of salt water taffy and also consider stopping at the birthday party of my college boyfriend who had/has neglected me so long I considered killing him. The inner deliberation took time but soon I was in a taxi speeding to the hospital where I put on my white lab coat and stethoscope, hoping no one would experience any heart trouble on my watch since I knew as much about hearts as about the carnal ruse of the Buddha - nil. I put my life in the hands of a little plastic Jesus mounted on the windowsill. “Whatever you do, Lord, you’ll do because you’re doing it,” I said. My mentor came in, furious. Wouldn’t even look at me. It turned out she was the lady at the shoe store I’d been to Saturday who had brought me about five or seven pairs of shoes and then the next size and then the brown not the black and somehow she had found out I would be returning the shoes . . .