Corporate Dreamland

You ever have a dream so wild you wake up questioning every life choice—including that leftover shrimp taco you had at 10:47 p.m.?

Last night, I had a dream that I got hired by a Fortune 500 company—but not through LinkedIn, Indeed, or any of the 14,000 job sites I check daily. No, this company recruited me via carrier pigeon with a tiny scroll that read:

“You’re hired. Business casual. BYO stapler.”

I show up to orientation, which—naturally—is being held in a medieval castle with fluorescent lighting. The VP of Onboarding, who looks suspiciously like my 8th-grade gym teacher, hands me a welcome packet made entirely of HR buzzwords and glitter. I’m then escorted into a room labeled “Circle of Trust,” where I’m greeted by a panel of interviewers sitting on beanbags—wearing Hogwarts robes.

The first question?

“If you were a soup, what kind would you be and why?”

I panic and say “gazpacho,” because it sounds strategic and cool under pressure.

They nod solemnly. One of them weeps.

Then Karen—yes, even in my dreams she appears—leans forward and asks,

“What’s your spirit spreadsheet function?”

I say, “VLOOKUP,” and she gasps like I just proposed marriage.

Suddenly, a raccoon in a blazer bursts in and announces I’ve been promoted.

To what? Who knows.

But now I have an intern named Brad who’s a motivational mouse with tiny Post-it notes and an espresso addiction.

Brad tells me the company’s entire business model is “synergy through interpretive dance,” and I’m now in charge of Corporate Vibes and Spiritual Alignment.

I ask if I can work remotely. They say sure—as long as I fax in a selfie every morning.

And just when I think I’ve lost all grip on reality, someone whispers,

“Kayla’s watching.”

I turn around.

There she is.

Holding a rejection letter.

From a company I never applied to.

On fire.

I wake up in a cold sweat, heart racing, laptop open on yet another job board that reads,

“Apply Now – Must Have 12 Years Experience and the Soul of a Labrador.”

I sip my coffee, shake off the dream, and laugh.

Because sometimes, life feels exactly like that—completely surreal, accidentally hilarious, and a little too on the nose.

But here’s the thing:

If I can survive corporate raccoons, spreadsheet soul-searching, and dreamland HR tests…

I can survive this.

So here’s to the dreamers.

The job seekers.

The fax machine warriors and spreadsheet survivors.

Reality may be weird.

But our resilience?

Legendary.