I woke up, which ironically was exactly when I fell asleep in reality, and I was dressed in my dark executive suit, white shirt, with a pair of dark trousers. Somehow, I knew today was supposed to be an important day. There was this sense of anticipation as my front door open. And I remembered. Today was the day to meet my kids for the first time! I had not had children before in my entire life. And that truthful reality curiously extended into my dream. I felt so excited. My first time as a father!
As the shining light of the morning sun beamed into my house, I saw six children at my doorstep – a pair of girls in early teens, a pair of boys not older than 5, and two toddlers. Vaguely in the background I saw a woman with a face I could not remember of. 6 kids! That feeling was so overwhelming. I was a dad! For the first time! A sudden sense of pride and responsibility descended upon me. The feeling was so surreal, so in my face.
But, wait a minute. Where did the kids come from? Even in my ecstatic state I could not help but to analyse the situation using logic. Even in my dreamy state I knew I could not have impregnated any of of past encounters that many times. 6 kids! Where did you all come from?
I could have married a divorce, yes? They could be from an orphanage, yes? Or I could have inherited them from one of my friends or distant family, yes? My frustration in finding an answer was overshadowed by my joy, the joy of being a dad to 6 kids. I was a dad, can you believe it?!
I always thought I prefer girls but I found it hard to connect to my daughters. They just didn’t want to talk to me. Give it time, I thought to myself. The pair of boys on the other hands readily accepted me as their dad. They hugged me and demanded me to bath them every night, which was nice. I did not have much recollection of the pair of toddlers.
Work had been crazy. I was given this impossible task as a trainer to train the internal staff on the topic of … oh well, I didn’t even want to talk about it. The bulletin had been circulated for a while and I doubted if there were many who would turn up. And I was right. The theatre was half occupied. In my trembling voice, I greeted the audience and continued, “Today’s topic is …” I paused, looked at the direction of my boss at the front row, and he mouthed the title of the training in a part encouraging part humiliating manner. “… Functional Usage,” I continued.
Then I flashed the slides onto the big screen and there was a mathematical formula. I stared at the formula as though it was the first time seeing it (and it was indeed the first time I saw it). On the left of the equation looked like the time available to us individual in a daily fashion. On the right was a whole list of components. The first item being the time we had to set aside for the security measures against terrorism. Ah, I saw the connection here. It must be some sort of time management training course. What century in the future was I at?! That mankind had to set aside time to go through the security measures, daily? How sad! Once I grasped the essence of what the equation was about, I had this sudden dose of confidence and my consulting skill kicked in (apparently my skills in real life extends to my dreams as well). I began to talk about terrorism and the need to better manage our time.
Speaking of time management, I had this longing to go home as soon as I could, to see my kids, especially my two boys.