Last night I dreamed that my job was to tie up people's shoes. All people came to me for their shoe tying task. There was a giant long line up out my door, down the block as far as the eye could see, all hours of the day. I took a hot air balloon ride up just to see how long the line up was and it literally was infinite. A job for the rest of my life as a professional shoe tier. Not A shoe tier... THE shoe tier.
Probably not all too bad of a job... except that the problem was that everyone who came to me to have their shoes tied had faulty laces. That little thing on the end that holds the end together and makes it go through the holes (what's that thing called?)... they fell off of every lace I touched. Some people already had their laces looped, so for them it wasn't a problem at all. But the ones who didn't have theirs looped, it was so so frustrating and time consuming trying to get the laces through the holes.
At one point, I looked at my hands and the skin had sort of hardened on them and turned into these almost robotic like looking hands, so that they wouldn't get rubbed raw from all the handling of the laces. I remembered thinking that I felt sorry for my son who would have to take over the burden of tying shoes as he grew up, after I retired.
Ya. That's my brain for you. Weird, na?