I’ve been having these dreadful nightmares. Last night, I dreamt that I was invited by ‘the coolest girl in school’ to a pajama party. I was thrilled. Until she walked into my bathroom and pointed out that all of my pajama bottoms were in the wash. You laugh, but it was the ultimate ‘naked in public’ dream, as sponsored by Jack Wills.

I woke up, naturally (who wouldn’t, after such an ordeal?) and read a very good Saturday Times column. (Quick sidebar here- yesterday, at the gym, I was frantically searching through The Sunday Times for the ‘good bits’ when I noticed a lady on the stepper had purloined Style, Culture, The Magazine and News Review. I would have said something, but have you ever tried to talk to someone on a stepper? They’re never at the right height).

It was very early, so I fell back asleep. This time, I dreamt that I was on holiday. ‘How delightful,’ You might be thinking. I was on a group holiday. With people I didn’t know. And on the last day (the other days were spent mostly avoiding them) I lost my suitcase.
I will not bore you with other recent dreams (I will- they include receiving someone else’s mail, properly addressed to me, opening it and being roundly derided for its contents; being unable to locate something vital; being placed in charge of a dog and losing it) but, suffice to say, I’m pretty tired. I’m also doing a lot more laundry than usual.

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