I have been working in th Factory for the past 10 years. My department was "Corrugated Fiberboard Recycling" of the "Pulp and Papers Division". I am lucky because it is not as disgusting as 'OrMa' (factory slang for the Organic Matter Recycling Department comprised of carbon-based compounds) or as loud and noxious as the Metals Recycling. You really had to see this production to believe it. The Factory of my employment is massive. One quarter of the city's population also works there recycling and re-claiming whatever the population consumes then prepares it into essentially any desirable, profitable product. The sad reality is that human civilization had stripped the Earth bare and the population is so enormous that to support future growth, it is mandatory to recycle; therefore it is very lucrative to Factory stakeholders (privately run and in theory answers to the State). But none of the common people own the Factory, of course. Nothing quite like punching a clock in and out of work, even in a dream.
Anyway, I've been having this recurring dream for years, fulfilling my shift in my department as regular as my day-to-day life. Punching out and then suddenly waking up, exhausted. The good news is: last night I received a promotion. The Superintendent gave me my own dorm room within the Factory complete with a military-looking cot and a small fridge. The fridge is stocked of juices and fruits from broken shipping pallets that cannot be transported out and have not been directly returned to be re-processed through the OrMa. Lucky me!! He then told me of the work that needs to be complete as he handed me my entry keys, and he hopes that I can find enough time to get the duties done along with my new found freedom. After all, he cannot pay me if my work is unfinished. I remain skeptical.
This is a dream that I have been having for years and to suddenly be liberated? I do not understand.
(I was feverish and ill in real life that day and most of the night. Seriously, I almost accidentally overdubbed Dan's vocals from a tape track with Bob's harmonica earlier that day because I was sick and NOT thinking but got lucky with fast reflexes!)
This dream promotion definitely beats out the unfinished homework nightmare AND the drowning, suffocating night-terror. I get free fruit juice in my dream, motherf*cker! Farewell incubus.
I cannot wait to get back to sleep now! I have the night off!
I even looked up recurring dreams in Wikipedia. There was no mention of slaving away in a despot factory.