I don’t remember before ever having a baseball dream. It wasn’t a long dream. Just one scene. But so unique.

I don’t know what team it was, but it was early in the season, and the manager decided to do something unexpected. It was time for a pinch hitter and he chose himself to be that pinch hitter. He was an older man, a one time star with a lot of power, but no one thought he could play the game today.

He hit the first pitch. It didn’t leave the park, but it hit the wall in left field and then, luckily, it rolled into a crevice in the wall, making it very difficult, possibly impossible, for the left fielder to retrieve it.

I said luckily because the old manager was no longer a Speedy Gonzalez (did I just make up Speedy Gonzalez, or is that a thing?) and he limped about at walking speed around the bases. The difficulty in picking up the ball in left field enabled him to get an in-the-park home run, to the wild cheering of the sold out stadium.

That’s it. I remember one other dream, more typical for me, but with a twist. Something happened to my law firm and we had merged (I think we had to, for some reason) with a larger firm about which we knew very little. Our new firm took in all sorts of lawyers and was enormous – much to big for its offices which were over crowded. To the confusion not only of people from my firm, but from all these other peoples, crowded on rows of chairs and in narrow hallways.

Work was impossible. I had a client in Toronto who needed to hear from me, but I had no time to call him, didn’t know where his files were, etc. (There were no computers in this dream).

Where would be our offices? Clearly, there was no room for us here. The head of the firm told us that we would all be moving into our new offices on Tuesday. But he also said that he did not know where they were going to be. It was Thursday – how would he find office space by Tuesday?

It slowly became clear to all of us. There would be no offices. There would be no new firm. This firm was going out of business.

The next day I walked by the building where we were so crowded the day before. The parking lot was full. Not with cars, but with furniture and other items for sale. The head of the firm was in charge of the sale.

I saw my red leather couch and red leather chair from my office on the parking lot. I told the head of the firm that those were my personal items, that they didn’t belong to his firm. I waited for an argument, but he gave me two stickers and told me to put them on the furniture, so no one else would take them. I knew I had to remove the two pieces that day – I needed a pickup truck. I didn’t know anyone with a pickup truck. And I needed to find a place at home to put the pieces. I couldn’t think of any place where they would fit.

By the way, I did have these two red pieces in my office. They were great. I don’t have them now. Someone else does.

My other dreams? Less clear. I was advising a group (a committee or something) on which young person they should sponsor or hire. There were a number of candidates, but the favorite was a young man, who had a rather unique background (don’t remember what) and personality. But he blew it. The first questioner said “I hear you have quite an Irish humor”. The young man looked at him and said: “It is OK for you to ask me that if you are Irish. But otherwise it is very very insulting. Are you Irish, Mr. KOWALSKI?”

The next candidate was a young woman, who told me that she didn’t want to meet the group because she just got a job. “Where?”, I asked? “At ‘Vogue’”, she said. “Oh, I said,”, you are becoming a journalist?” “I don’t know what the job is”, she answered, walking away from me.