Gutting Chickens

This morning I dreamt that I had just landed in Chicago and had a job opportunity gutting chickens. When I rang about the post I believed I had gotten an answering machine; I couldn't hear too well. Later I rang again and discovered I had actually gotten through the first time. The volume on the phone was so low though that I hadn't heard my prospective boss. Now, faintly, she told me to fornicate off. To her credit she did voice a concern that gutting chickens might not be my thing. I was a little disappointed and a little relieved; I don't think gutting chickens would have been my thing.