Saturday, May 07, 2005
Woe Is Me
Slept badly last night. For the third night in a row. And I had the strangest dream, yet again. I'm not going to go into the full details, lest I seem more batshit crazy than I feel, but suffice to say it involved a woodcutting instrument, a melon, a microphone, a photo album full of smiling, but deeply unhappy people, and Nick Cohen from The Observer. I'm not joking. It's not the first time either: just two nights ago, I had a deeply troubling dream which involved my dismembered body trailing behind the head of a man who made a living by robbing pigeon carcasses from pet cemeteries. Again, I wish I was joking, but sadly not.
I could keep mentalists in employment for months. If anyone can explain these dreams, I'd be interested.
Personally, I blame the British worker. Let me explain. It is Saturday morning, so why the haemorraging fuck is it necessary for the builders on the construction site opposite to be hammering on things? I thought British workers were totally lazy, and a challenge to get out of bed, not a challenge to keep them away from work. Oh for the days of frequent strikes! They appear to have been given a new toy today, because I haven't been woken up by this one before. It goes, very loudly indeed, Ker-flap, Ker-flap, Ker-flap, Ker-flap, Ker-flap, Ker-flap! It sounds like the world's noisiest hole punch.
