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Weird dreams this am, involving tornadoes that take off roof shingles, much to the horror of my companion, who I believe was Will Smith’s wife. Who else would have purple roof tiles? And then we were borrowing someone’s house while convincing them that we were invited by the man’s spouse who was away. There were about four of us, and I have the distinct impression that it was the Jinglepots and I. I remember being exasperated by Sarah’s mess in one of the rooms because we didn’t really want to leave a mess, since the old man was a bit strange. Sort of dark angular and wobbly images, like a hand-held cam-corder in some spots here. Running along the beach where there were a lot of people, with Will Smith who was worried about who’s place we were running in front of and what they’d think. Who’s L.L. Bean? Sitting on the sand and then realising that I wasn’t really on a beach, that I had only imagined it and I was sitting in a room with no furniture and very little in the way of light. I’m beginning to think there was someone there with me, when the alarm goes off and I open my eyes.

You can understand why I’m a little confused this am. What on earth does that mean?

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