It's strange how dreams work. Last night I dreamt that I was walking through a building - a building I knew - and passing a number of people, all of whom said variations of "good morning" as I passed them. I didn't recognise those people, in the sense of being able to quote names, but I 'knew' them as people I would see at work. I realised after waking up that the building I was walking through was the science lab building from my secondary school. One of these people seemed to be arriving late for a range of events through a period of time. Finally, I was walking along a road near where I grew up and following this person who was perpetually late into the chemist.
Despite not having been in, or thought about, that shop for 30 years or more, I remembered the layout on entering. Even down to the strange smell that was always there because they had the perfumes too close to the prescription section. I was then presented with a glass of bubbly(!) by someone in uniform and instructed to mingle. I can't mingle. I tried to talk to someone who ignored me and I fell back to my normal technique of trying to appear to be fascinated by something on the wall. Thereby avoiding any social faux pas and inevitable rejection.
I usually find that some element of a particularly vivid dream is based on something I experienced, or was thinking about the previous day. Quite easy in this case: I'd seen several family pictures posted of great-nieces or nephews in their uniforms for first days at nursery or school. I'd also seen pictures of Prince William's three children starting at their new school. This was clearly the reference to the science lab, since the school they were attending until this term was Thomas's Battersea. Apparently referred to as "the Eton of SW London", it was formerly Sir Walter St. John's Grammar School for Boys, aka "Sinjuns" and where I went to school from 1976. The building still has the original school crest, which was on our blazer pockets, over the entrance.
The other part was easy to work out as well. Seeing people I know and having interactions with them, followed by a struggle with social interactions. I've now been retired for a week, and it's been a little hard on my mental health over the last few days, possibly not helped by having COVID for part of it and having to isolate in the house. I really wasn't expecting it to get difficult quite so soon. I mean, I've only been gone a week so why would it be any different from taking a week's leave.
When you have a week off, in the back of your mind is the return to work. Counting the days left; that awful Sunday feeling of "back to work tomorrow". Subconsciously, you know that it's only a temporary break. This time my subconscious knows differently: there is no going back.
I'm beginning to understand why older people value small interactions: a chat with local shop counter staff; fellow dog walkers sharing a greeting across the street. They remind us that we still exist, even if our worlds have gotten smaller.
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