I had two chances to get to that place on time. It never occurred to me that in real life I would never have agreed to go. I was rightfully nervous about it, racking my brain with how I would get the job done - last an impossible 12 hours. The first time it was a false alarm. I awoke disoriented, thinking I had to be there in 15 minutes. At the very least it would take me an hour. Panicked, I called and one of the clinical leaders answered and was suspiciously nice, telling me,
"no, don't worry. You weren't schedule to come in until 3:30 PM."
I fell back into a deep sleep. This time I awoke at 5:30 PM. 5:30 PM! Two hours late. The room turned cold as stone. I went over every excuse I could think of so that it would not be my fault. Over and over. The call never came. I was done there. They were furious. I wondered why I should let it bother me. I wanted no part in that place. Still toward the end of the dream I I knew I had to make those calls. I spoke to each horrible person- each miserable unhappy person.
In the early morning darkness of my bedroom I recalled every word with excruciating detail. Every apologetic, pleading word.