Where's All Your Stuff?

I'm not sure if it's a medication thing or an age thing or a brain on overload thing ... now that I think about it, maybe it's all of those things combined ... but I don't dream as much as I used to when I sleep. I used to have incredibly vivid and complex dreams almost every night, but over the last six months or so, I've noticed a huge decrease in the number of dreams I have and, quite frankly, it sort of has me a bit worried. Not the kind of freaked out, over-the-top worried I get when the tornado sirens go off or I convince myself that the cracks under my gas furnace in the basement are going to make my house explode. Seriously? My somewhat irrational concern over my current lack of dreaming when I'm asleep doesn't even begin to come close to my completely rational and justifiable anxiety over tornado sirens and basement cracks ... but alas, once again I digress. Though I don't dream anywhere nearly as much as I used to, I still remember the dreams I do have. That's generally a good thing, you know, remembering my dreams, except when they freak me out in a weird twilight zone kind of way. 

One of the many things I miss about the place where I used to sit at work is getting to see my co-workers' kids when they come to visit their moms or dads. My spot wasn't far from the front door and one of the first things the kids would do was run to my desk and give me a hug. If I wasn't up against a tight deadline, I would always take a few minutes to play a little Nerf basketball with them or have a quick Nerf sword battle or just sit and chat. And of course, I always, always, always gave them candy ... that's why they liked me so much, you know, because I was the keeper of the candy. Since I now sit upstairs at the opposite end of the building from the front door, I don't get to see the kids much anymore and I miss that ... I miss seeing those kiddos a whole lot.

I was sitting at my desk today when I heard giggles from behind me ... there's just nothing on earth like the excitement in a kid's eyes when they are happy to see someone, and those two little girls were beaming from ear to ear as they wrapped their arms around me and hugged me tightly. I'm not sure who was the happiest ... me, the girls or their dad. There were more hugs when it was time for the girls to leave along with promises that I would come to their house soon and spend some time with them. It wasn't too long after those two little gals left that I was surprised by another set of sisters ... the daughters of another co-worker came running up to my desk with the same gleam of excitement in their eyes as the sisters I had seen earlier. Once again, there were hugs and high-fives and giggling and laughing and maybe, just maybe, even a tiny bit of rough-housing. There were smiles all around ... from me to the girls to their mom ... lots of smiles and lots of love. I've been really missing my granddaughters since I came back from Canada, not that I don't always miss them, but it's really been intense this week for some reason. Seeing those kids today helped my heart way more than their parents could possibly know ... there's nothing on earth better than kids ... absolutely nothing at all better on earth than the sweetness, innocence and honesty of little kids.

Kids are way smarter than we adults often realize they are, and they pay way more attention to things than we think they do. One of the little girls who paid me a visit today made a very special Christmas picture for me last year and today when she walked into my very barren cubicle, the first thing she said was, "Where's the picture I made you?" I told her it was at home on my refrigerator (which is true, by the way), but I could tell she was wondering why I don't have all the drawings from my little kid friends tacked up around my desk like I did in my old spot. The two little girls who visited me later in the afternoon were more direct in their reaction to the lack of personalization and fun stuff at my current location, especially the younger kiddo as she matter of factly asked, "Where's all your stuff?" 

That sweet kiddo's words have pounded in my head ever since they left her little lips and now they're pounding in my heart ... where's all my stuff? I could write an encyclopedia full of the deep psychological meaning and subsequent angst that accompanies that question but I've decided instead to just leave you with that question this evening ... where's all my stuff? Where's yours?

P.S. Last night I dreamed about my space at work ... weird, eh?