I plan on sleeping in

On Wednesday night K. and I had a chat about what we wanted to do at the weekend. Most time off work is sidetracked by the concerted efforts of panicked housekeeping, tedious shopping, and the pursuit of some ideal of flitting effortlessly into the nearby metropole to soak up rich, varied culture alongside the beautiful people. This was an attempt to circumvent all those time-stealers and do what we want. It’s worked rather well so far, despite the best efforts to derail it on the part my metabolism, insisting on giving me those early-morning wake-up kicks as per usual that can put us on separate routes for the rest of the day.

The upshot of this relatively innocent pillow-talk was that I dreamt about our weekend plans, and woke up on Thursday convinced it was Saturday. You can imagine how bitter I felt when the alarm went off, not merely because we caught the last few minutes of Sarah Kennedy (since the 1980s she seems to have turned into some permanently confused polo player). For the rest of the day I moped around with my forlorn hopes that it might suddenly turn into another long weekend or, more accurately, another short week.

My Wednesday-night dreams also contained protracted and heated arguments with almost everyone I know; or felt like that, anyway. With that in the back of my mind until now I’ve been entirely perplexed that the world is still happy being civil to me. I notice, though, that HTFB finally has an online presence—in the ersatz form that LiveJournal permits, at any rate—clearly a response to the talking-to that I gave his dream-self. Whether or not he uses LiveJournal to synthesise as much as he’ll use the comments system to analyse remains to be seen.

Now, though, I can approve all the comments of his that I was holding in WordPress Coventry; that was a rather petty punishment for the one-sidedness of communication with him that, ironically, has almost certainly passed him by. Who comes back just to check that their comments are still there? One can involve oneself with all seriousness in a thinly-veiled psychological battle with someone else who can themselves remain utterly oblivious to it all. And then they get a blog. I think the moral here is clear.

This entry was posted in dreams, experience, friends, holiday, occupation, society. Bookmark the permalink.

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