Big Fish in a Little Pond

I've always been interested in interpreting my dreams, and with my roommate freshman year of undergrad, we even attempted to create those "lucid dreams" where you realize you're dreaming and take over your dream and have a fantastic time. We were only slightly successful (and it's a surprising amount of work). I used to keep a dream interpretation book in my bathroom magazine rack, and every morning when I got up for my daily ablutions, I would quickly scan the index of the book for the key images in my dream -- particularly since all my dreams fade like fairy dust moments after I awake. I've never gotten very good at interpreting my dreams except when they're fairly obvious, in a symbolic kind of way. Just this morning before I woke up, I had just such a dream.

First some background. Recently, I've begun talking about my (and Beau's) mind-fucking difficulties getting a decent job here. There was a lot we were unprepared for -- the unbelievably low wages, the high rental rates, the schizophrenic weather, the "special" rules, regulations or ways of doing things here that we've never experienced anywhere else we've ever lived, and the sometimes overly friendly sometimes overly psychotic people. It feels like Bizarro World all the time. But the worst thing at all has been the job situation. It's been a complete nightmare trying to get decent-paying, good-quality, steady work. I've been either an administrator or teacher for about 12 years now, and to BLOW (screw "toot") my own horn, I'm very good at both. I work hard, I enjoy my work, and I believe in doing a good job. In Missoula, all I've been able to find and get so far, are low-skill, low-pay clerical jobs where I spend my day wondering if driving toothpicks under my fingernails would be more enjoyable. I'll talk more about my current temp job soon, but in the meantime, keeping that in mind, here's my dream:

I've got a gigantic fishing pole, kind of like the 12-foot bamboo one I had as a kid in Arizona with my happy bobber on the end. I've got some worms, which are small, and I break them in half to put them on the line.

Now it's time to fish, and I cast my impressive line into the water. The trouble is, the pond I'm fishing in is quite small. Almost immediately, I get a bite, and the bobber dips once into the water and, being as big as it is, bounces jauntily back up. The fish is gone.

This continues, again and again, though I go to different ponds, all diminutive, and all disappointing. Looking into the water of one, I can see the fish, and immediately I'm crushed -- they're so small, barely more than large minnows. "It hardly seems worth all this effort and the worms," I think to myself.

So, there's poor me, with my big impressive pole (my view of my own working credentials) fishing in these tiny ponds (Missoula's job market) with these teeny fish (Missoula's less-than-stellar jobs and pay), who just barely bite, but nothing comes of anything - I never catch a fish (in the end, I still don't have a full-time job).

*sigh*