Neurosis and the Minority Report

I had a dream about Ruth last night. I worked with her 26 years ago at a utility company. She seemed to idolize me. I didn’t know why. I was so unhappy then. I didn’t know why.

I worked for this incredible woman, Alma, who was eons ahead of her time. I worked as a personnel records clerk, recording the statistics for the minority report. I saw everyone’s salaries – everything was very confidential, as you can imagine. I saw educated, experienced women making much less than men of equal stature. I saw the red dot on the minority report when a black person was hired and a quota was met.

Ruth and I ate lunch together often and she always commented about how she admired my trim figure. Oh, I was very trim indeed. It was after my father died and after my divorce. I was living on Birds Eye vegetables, scotch whiskey and one-night stands. I had lost a lot of weight and my menstrual cycle had stopped. I worked a second job at night as a cocktail waitress, waiting on drug addicts that snorted cocaine with huge straws at my waitress station. Often the college kids would then go to the back (also my waitress station) and throw up. I got sick and was finally hospitalized. I asked for apples and soup and they gave me mashed potatoes and pecan pie. I had some neurological tests done, since one leg was an inch thinner than the other. I gained some weight after 10 days, my menstrual cycle resumed and I was released from the hospital.

I showed the neurology report to Alma. I knew would she would keep it confidential and she was so smart, too. She pointed out the word “neurosis”. I did not know the meaning of that word. It is common that a person does not know the meaning of a word that describes them succinctly. When studying the dictionary, I looked further to the word “neurotic” and began to understand my dilemma.

I left for art school soon after that.

I finally get it. I wish I could talk to Alma – maybe I should look up Ruth and give her a call.