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I'm bloody well ill again. Bloody. Bloodybloodybloody. Am now v. bored with ongoing sinus infections, headaches, exhaustion and the sensation that some bastard just replaced the glands in my neck with bumpy iron bars that bite me when I turn my head. Or laugh. The universe plz to stop now, thnx. Bored.
Robert Jordan died. Apparently he was a nice man, and I'm sorry for his family and friends, but I would have had more respect for him if he'd managed to get the Sprawling Chaos, or Horror With A Thousand Volumes, under control before he shuffled off the mortal wossname. I really enjoyed the first two or three books of Wheel of Time, and was consequently somewhat narked when they went all formless and void. Pity: some great concepts.
Last Night I Dreamed: I was back in university residence. No, wait, I was moving out of university residence, having sent all my luggage away already, and being left only with a threadbare blanket on the bare mattress and the noise of other people in the hallways outside. This makes much more subconscious sense.
Later, at the family home of my high school days, I had an epic struggle with an electric gate Gone Bad. It was broken, but when I put the big, heavy, wooden thing back on its runners and pushed the remote button, it took off at incredible speeds into the middle distance, following the line of the fence. I was somewhat terrified it would kill someone, but in fact it merely crashed a large party at the adjacent house, where an elderly scientist guy was harnessing the energies of a huge gaggle of kids to solve some major space-travel problem by the careful numbering and labelling of cupcakes. Actually, I can guess what that one means, too. My subconscious is being bossy again.
The dream about not having enough money to buy a new handbag at the farmers' department store was depressingly literal, I fear.
Robert Jordan died. Apparently he was a nice man, and I'm sorry for his family and friends, but I would have had more respect for him if he'd managed to get the Sprawling Chaos, or Horror With A Thousand Volumes, under control before he shuffled off the mortal wossname. I really enjoyed the first two or three books of Wheel of Time, and was consequently somewhat narked when they went all formless and void. Pity: some great concepts.
Last Night I Dreamed: I was back in university residence. No, wait, I was moving out of university residence, having sent all my luggage away already, and being left only with a threadbare blanket on the bare mattress and the noise of other people in the hallways outside. This makes much more subconscious sense.
Later, at the family home of my high school days, I had an epic struggle with an electric gate Gone Bad. It was broken, but when I put the big, heavy, wooden thing back on its runners and pushed the remote button, it took off at incredible speeds into the middle distance, following the line of the fence. I was somewhat terrified it would kill someone, but in fact it merely crashed a large party at the adjacent house, where an elderly scientist guy was harnessing the energies of a huge gaggle of kids to solve some major space-travel problem by the careful numbering and labelling of cupcakes. Actually, I can guess what that one means, too. My subconscious is being bossy again.
The dream about not having enough money to buy a new handbag at the farmers' department store was depressingly literal, I fear.
