Really, really weird reams, shall we. This morning when I woke up I was more than a little deurmekaar (direct translation from Afrikaans: “through each other” meaning confused) and it took me a while to register what day it was and so on! The strange part of waking up was actually remembering a dream I’d had- which I seldom do.
In my dream, Damien and I were living where we are now, with Greebo and Taxi in residence, nothing strange about that- but for some reason we had to vacate the premises, and fast. And not just leave- but wipe out all trace of ourselves. The next thing I knew I was in the basement (which our block of flats doesn’t actually have) with three other people- who were my colleagues in the dream- attaching some pipes to the wall. Each pipe was about a metre long, thick enough that I couldn’t get my hand all the way around them, and painted blue, I have no idea how they stuck to the wall, but stick they did. They were incendiary devices of some sort and had to be very strategically placed- apparently in order not to damage any of the other flats in the complex- only mine. Then I was back in my flat, packing very little- Damien, the cats, their harnesses and leashes, my phone, and a few other things. Not much at all really.
Then we were in a car, like a minibus, watching the flat burn from the road as we drove past… HUGE flames! HUGE! But only from my flat- nothing else was burning.
Then we were back in the flat, and hardly anything was even scorched! Messy yes, but not burnt.
And there’d been some kind of storm or flood or something because it was all wet outside and then I was climbing out of my living room window to discuss the path of the water with a downstairs neighbour and yelling at Damien and the cats not to climb out of the same window!
So- I never remember my dreams… and when I do- this is what I get!?!? Maybe I really should stop eating cheese before bedtime…?
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.