I had a job last night. I was dreaming, but I had a job.

I worked as an assistant to a woman. We worked in her house, where she lived with her husband.

The house was open concept; very open. From what I could tell it was made of entirely wood and glass. The stairs and bookcases had no backing; everything looked like it was floating in the air. There were no walls and the floors were made of glass; there was a clear view into the upstairs and the down. The basement was all water – as if the house was on stilts and built directly in the ocean. This would seem weird, if you didn’t know that the husband was a shark.

I couldn’t tell you what I did for this woman; I didn’t seem to do any work in the dream, but I can tell you that Peewee Herman was a good friend of the wife, my boss. Peewee was there that day but he wasn’t anything like you’d expect Peewee Herman to be. He was depressed and he wore heavy white make-up, like a Parisian clown. It could have been from the ocean in the basement or the tears of depression, but his make-up was wet and drippy.

Besides being the wife’s assistant, I’m not sure what my part was in all of this. I was present enough to hear and see everything that happened, but I didn’t do anything or talk to anyone. I was there, though, to hear Peewee’s confession; he was really a whale. No sooner did he say this, he dropped through the floor and into the watery basement, turning into a giant whale as he did so.

The wife ran down to the basement after Peewee; they were in love. When she caught up with him, she told him they could be together. He left out the front door, as a human, I can only assume he went off to plan their new life together.

The wife went to her husband (he must have been somewhere else in the house) and told him about her plans to leave him. This angered him and he turned from a man into a shark. He chased the wife up the stairs nipping at her feet the whole way. With each step she took she narrowly avoided a terrible shark bite to the ankles. She managed to get out the front door and he was right behind her; it was here that he turned back into a man. The house was sopping wet. The husband was exhausted and crawled back in the house and into the bathroom, locking himself in.

These two men were very different from each other, despite their notable similarities. The husband was a kind man but once he turned into the shark, he was dangerous beyond his control. What’s more, once he returned to his human form he had no memory of his stint as a shark. Alternatively, besides his giant size, Peewee was relatively harmless as a whale, but as a man, he was dangerous, too. He manipulated emotions, especially the wife’s. I didn’t know much about either of them, but I was rooting for the husband.

This is where my dream ended. I guess I’ll never know what happened to the wife, the husband, or Peewee. What I do know is this; the wife has a strange affinity for large water animals. That, and dreaming about imaginary jobs means I really need to give my subconscious something more exciting to mull over.