Aug. 12th, 2007

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I woke up from a sick dream (medicated and feverish!) in which I talked to the co-worker who just quit. Our store was more like a department store in the dream, and she was dressed very nicely with a pharmacist-style lab coat over her outfit; her hair was much darker than in waking life. When I approached she was kneeling and looking beneath a counter, but she got up to walk with me to the employee break room as we talked. She spoke with a Bosnian accent as she got more agitated, and part of me thought, "Ah,that's why she always spoke so slowly and carefully--English wasn't her first language!"

(She's not Bosnian. She just speaks slowly and carefully. Don't know why the dream did that. But anyway.)

She complained of her treatment at the store and gave it as her reason for leaving, and I wanted to say that I'd regretted that, that I sincerely liked working with her and wished I could have done something to about all that. She was a bit abrupt with me because she was so aggravated, but in the end I felt better--she had a better job now and would be okay.

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