Right, Then, Back To The Grindstone

After an obligatory three days of mourning, here I am back again with more stuff.

Firstly, this photo:-



Next, the dream I had this morning. I had this dream of rescuing this girl:-



from a building being eaten from within by stone eating caterpillars.

Yes, honestly.

There was also a broad daylight train crash, as a Virgin Pendolino train careered off the track at Chester Station at speeds approaching 125 mph, ploughing into the city on a bright summer's day to the soundtrack of Genesis' Land of Confusion.

Lesson of the Day: Those weren't aspirins you took last night. Also, keep away from stale rye bread. Just in case.

There was a nice followup dream, involving Nai and myself on the eve of our wedding. Romantic and warm. But I couldn't shake off that bloody Phil Collins song.

And finally, when I woke up, I moved my belt in yet another notch. That's nine links free. Honestly, folks, this diet thing might actually be working for me after all.

Apart from stale rye bread. Don't eat stale rye bread: it adds a Genesis soundtrack to your dreams.

Today's Episode of Doctors

I normally don't watch TV these days any earlier than, ooh, 21:00. Daytime TV's mostly off the menu to me. Which explains why today's episode of Doctors was such a refreshing surprise.

A man was suffering from a painful recurring nightmare. Each time, he was changing the tyre of this red Volvo in a particular street ... and he gets run over by a speeding truck, its horn blaring. Then he wakes up, and the day seems to start again.

Each time, his shrewish Glaswegian wife gets more and more harpyish, screaming at him about bills, bills, bills. His boss calls him on his mobile phone - that's when he hasn't gone and lost it. Each time, he comes into the Mill Clinic, but they've got no appointments for him, and it's as if they've forgotten him each time.

When he comes out, his red Volvo's missing, and he finds it in a nearby road, with the flat tyre ... and the truck's waiting for him.

In the end, he had no idea if this is real or all just part of his dream. Until the doctor finally comes along and makes him realise that he is, in fact, awake this time.

It turned out that he doesn't drive a red Volvo. His victim did, though: the poor bastard whom he ran over whilst driving his truck, two weeks previously. About the time his nightmares began. He'd left the guy for dead and driven on, because he'd left his mobile phone at home and because there was nobody there, and finally because his shrewish harpy of a wife was going on at him about those damnable bills, bills, bills.

All those excuses.

Finally, in front of the police station, the doctor tells him that he's making the right decision by going to them and reporting what he's done. Flushed with confidence, the guy takes a step off the pavement towards his new life.

There's a blaring horn. A truck bears down upon him. Cut to black. Roll credits.

Priceless. Award worthy. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. :)