for ten years, the only dreams that i have had about the ramada have been flashbacks… vivid nocturnal memories of the nightmare of being robbed, pepper-sprayed, and beaten with a gun.  most of the time, the dream was true to the reality.  occasionally, the dream was far worse, preying on my gratitude for knowing how much worse that night could have been.  over the years, i dream less and less about it.  i think less and less about it. 

twice in the last month, i have dreamt about going back to work at the ramada.  in these dreams, i am fully aware of that night… and yet i am perfectly happy to be back there working again.   

interesting, methinks.