Last night I dreamed the breakers were people I knew

I'm standing in a substation I've worked on for twenty years, except the breakers are all people I've known — foremen, apprentices, that one guy who retired and died two weeks later. They're humming at 60 hertz and I can hear which ones are about to trip, which ones are just tired and need a reseat. I go to lock one open and it says my name — not angry, just sad, like a bus I should've caught. Woke up checking my own loads.