Work Dreams + Nightmares

Sorting Through Old Bosses + Bullshit

Oct 22, 2025

persons hand on water — Photo by Kahfiara Krisna on Unsplash

Last night, I woke up from a vivid nightmare about a job I haven’t had in over a decade. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been haunted by old bosses and workplaces.

I wish I could send a few of my former clients and employers an invoice for all the time I’ve spent thinking about them over the years. Consciously and unconsciously. In and out of therapy.

These ghosts of my corporate past have been showing up more often than usual lately. More than once, I’ve woken up in a sweat, trying to convince myself I’m not back at my old desk, behind on a deadline, searching for the right file while an old boss breathes down my neck asking if the “rebrand” is done yet.

For the record, fuck that guy. And his micro-dick, micro-managing ass, too.

It’s been four years since I’ve had a “regular” job. My last one was at a big media company, doing graphic design for a streaming service. I genuinely loved the work, the creative rush, and the collaboration. But personal tragedies and professional burnout finally caught up with me.

I didn’t exactly quit with a bang. But with just two days’ notice, I did quit with a deep exhale and a quiet whimper.

I felt terrible about leaving my newly-appointed manager—someone I’ve known and loved for years—in that position. But I just couldn’t do it anymore. Not for a company and corporate culture that so clearly didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything.

Since then, I’ve been self-employed. Freelance. Independent. Free-ish.

I gig and side-hustle my way through life now. My main sources of income are my Substack and my YouTube channel. The struggle is real, but so is the peace of mind that comes from working for myself again.

Some days, it feels like liberation. Other days, exile. Freedom comes with its own kind of pressure. But I’ll take that over the steady drip of office politics and performative professionalism that used to drain the life out of me.

What surprises me, though, is how often those old jobs sneak into my subconscious.

Some nights, I’m back in that open-plan office, trying to hit impossible deadlines while pretending to stay calm. Other nights, I’m fighting with clients who “just” want to make the logo bigger. Occasionally, I’m the boss—the one trying to keep everyone happy while everything burns behind me. But more often, I’m the worker bee, exhausted by Queen Bee’s bullshit.

It’s fascinating how the brain clings to the worst parts of a job—the hierarchies, the stress, the humiliations. I don’t just remember the work; I remember the small men with big egos. I remember those ones who did their best to make me (and everyone else) feel less than.

Luckily, I’ve dealt with bullies my entire life. I sometimes pity the fools who think it wise to fuck with me. This ain’t my first rodeo. I’m nice…until I’m not. How I’ve never been fired (yet) remains a mystery. 😎

Lately, I’ve been trying to make peace with those ghosts—to thank them for what they taught me, and then let them go. I don’t want to keep reliving all that mess. Every job and project has shaped who I am—and reminded me who I never want to be again.

Maybe that’s what these dreams are doing, too: sorting through the old bullshit so my waking self doesn’t have to. Maybe it’s my subconscious filing system, cleaning out the mental hard drive, freeing up space for something new.

So, to all my former bosses and clients: it’s time for me to clock out. My shift is over. I’ve learned my lessons, I’ve paid my dues, and now it’s time to get back to the real work—my work.

Keep calm and dream on!
Clint 🌈✌️

P.S. If you have any trouble accessing my blog, don’t worry—it’s not you, it’s me. I am in the process of removing my “custom domain” because it was confusing some readers about whether or not the posts were actually on Substack. I have set up a redirect, but just in case there are a few technical hiccups, please update your bookmarks to collidepress.substack.com.

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ON THIS DAY = OCTOBER 22

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1811 = Franz Liszt = Hungarian pianist and composer
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1987 = John Adams’ opera Nixon in China premiered at the Houston Grand Opera.