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Some time ago I thought I’d conceive work-set stories that were more to my liking than the weekly hijinx with poor management—that is, more likely to take my mind off the brutal reality of it, like identifying a co-worker as a JAV actress, suspecting another of fighting crime at night or being kidnapped and experimented on by aliens for years during a lunch break. Or from even further back, taking time off for one job-seeking adventure after another.This morning I had a dream I wandered into an office building exploring each room as I would in a FPS and finding all of the empty ones in a state of squalor, but still well-equipped enough for me to hide among them in a maintenance role. On the ground floor I came across a garage of company cars, among them a red 60’s Mustang coupe I would eventually make my escape, but not before flashing back to some of the more memorable moments from my Kramer-like tenure.

IT staff wore red polos, and once while attempting to resolve an issue for an employee named Kazuto (a woman, I was surprised to learn), the real team responded to her original request, so I had to disappear downstairs to a connected subway line and remove the stolen uniform to avoid their pursuit.

Update: I might have intentionally used the videogame analogy because The Stanley Parable had been sitting on my Desktop (behind interminable updates from the Epic Games Store, who can blame me) for so long without even a single walkthrough, and while the narrative interplay lives up to its reputation, it’s the desperate search for some sense of fulfillment—take that as you will—that reminds me how disappointing my dreams often are. Not to mention the contrived frustration behind the experience, corridors or doors that go nowhere, episodes that end abruptly and if you do find someone, you’re left to convince yourself that the fantasy is realer than the medium is capable of rendering.

If you listen to the Internet, Idris Elba deserves a better role in comicbook moviedom than being Thor’s doorman. (Alas, DC corporate looks like they opted for 80’s throwback Cyborg as the token leaguer.) And since I watched Pacific Rim on a plane with no sound, never got into The Wire, and gave up on the Office before he became a recurring character, I didn’t quite see it until now. Needless to say, this series shits all over Sherlock and SVU. DCI Luther’s no less a superhero than anyone on those shows, but I suppose he has to be one, in order to survive all his loved ones and grow out of his temper tantrums.

Try as I might, I cannot recall anything before the plane crash, which was in actuality a heist getaway. Three of our crew revealed themselves as impostors—maybe even aliens—just before bailing, and left us on our own as we trekked back towards civilization. The path along the rugged hillside where we landed eventually produced a square house, but upon closer inspection, it was a facsimile, then another. The third, a split-level vacation home, was occupied, and the couple we caught returning from grocery shopping allowed a blond woman among us to use their cellphone to call relatives she assured us were trustworthy. Her word, however, wasn’t good enough for me, and I ran for it into the night, recommending Daryl from The Office to do the same as I passed him and others relaxing outside. She betrayed us and the police arrived for the rest of them.

Seems like my whole department was on the lam with me, and our pictures were on the news. Mine appeared towards the end, so I hoped I would avoid detection by the public. I nervously boarded a train, but changed cars when I felt the heat was on. This one was oddly shaped like a triangle, with two entrances at one corner split by a wall: I sat along the far side, and when a Black afro’d police officer entered, searching for me, I hid my head under my hoodie. Luckily so did a number of other young men to my right; one caught his attention and he drew his weapon, shouting at him to show himself; in the confusion I calmly walked to the other exit on the left and discreetly hurdled some passengers to get out.

Tide’s turning again, this time away from 30 Rock, which hasn’t been doing it for me lately, back to the Office producers and their newer work on Parks & Recreation. (Modern Family on the night before is good, too.) I dreamed that I was part of a similar documentary crew, except we were returning to the show years later, to witness the changes at the company since. We walked through the warehouse first, much larger than Dunder Mifflin’s—turns out it was Spectrum’s, as the entourage escorting us included leather-jacketed Frank, Ben and their usual cadre of bankers a-courtin’. Jim and Pam had either moved on, or their fate left for surprise. We made our way to the small office up front, which everyone knew was now fully manned by Chinese. Further evidence that this was the future, people walked there through a holographic wall. It was squalid, in terrible disarray with only a single frumpy clerical worker appearing from a closet-like restroom; in fact, there was no distinction between toilet and desk. No receptionist, either, following the new practical standards from the East.

Has effectively replaced The Office for my Thursday night laughs. The tide’s finally turned against capitalism and overcompensated management like Michael Scott to put an end his 15-year tenure (fortunately only a third televised), which, while not the least bit funny, was well enough performed by Mr. Carrell. Quitting was his last act of incompetence, and this coming from someone who would know.

Dunno how long NBC’ll keep it up, but not too shabby a first whole episode. Never mind the 2-fer political progressives in the cast; for me, of course, it was the reunion of three from Night Court’s. Markie Post is 58 and looks great. Didn’t John Larroquette’s Dan Fielding once say to her as (a then pregnant) Christine Sullivan, “Do those get any bigger?!” And here I still can’t recite a single line from a Supreme Court case.

Flashback to all my foreign language classes in school, I’m again the go-to guy for conceiving, scripting and producing our little presentation this year since none of us wants to get up and belt out a holiday favorite, nor has the children to make perform instead and scar psychologically as it were. A short film based on The Office was no drain upon the well, but how to give it any runtime beyond remaking the opening credits? I credit a conversation with 남재 earlier this week where I suggested he gift his boss with a framed picture of himself smiling—preferably one with decoration that reads “Friends Forever”—but really it goes back to a Christmas story from ドクター・スランプ (for the second day in a row, no less) where せんべ gives them out to everyone in town and they’re used as frisbees.

I dreamed we were staying in a spacious, home-sized hotel when the back doorbell rang. This wasn’t the best of areas, so I suspected trouble when I looked through the peep-hole and saw it covered by a Black man’s face who claimed to be with FedEx. Somehow my view changed camera angles and I could see him from outdoors, not in uniform nor carrying any package I was expecting and accompanied by two cohorts preparing a break-in. A garbage truck backed up to the door. I went to the other room and called the front desk, thinking twice, then pressed the “3” button labeled security. Butterfingers that I was, I first hit 5 by mistake. As I described the situation to the operator, sitting on a stairway to the second floor, they must have gained entry because at least one appeared, dressed in all Black, gesticulating wildly like a gorilla, and I reported the intrusion. I awoke thinking what a terrible blow it would be to the Obama campaign, let alone to race relations, were the other side to air a spot featuring a victim of such a crime sharing his or her grievance.

In the 45 minutes or so I had left this morning I spotted Steve Carrell at a kid’s store, and he had a terrible bowl cut from behind. I followed him to where they were filming The Office in the indoor mall outside, and discovered that in my absence, 老婆 had been selected as an extra for the shoot, and was being dressed (out of her pajamas) and prepped for the part. She flubbed her lines the first time around, but they were giving her a second chance.