#11 & 12
They say our dreams are the mind's filing-system...beavering away at night to sort our psyche into neat files and stow everything safely...
Well, if that is so, there has been some rogue secretary in my mind's office the last couple of nights...running amuk among the filing-cabinets, tossing files with complete abandon into the air and generally laying waste my attempts to sleep soundly.
I have rarely, if ever, had such weird and disturbing dreams...
The vacuum cleaner is misbehaving this morning, and, convinced there is a vital piece missing, I go rummaging in the compost heap...there among the tealeaves and slimy pink worms I find at least part of the missing plastic 'thing'. Far from convinced that I have it all together (!), I vacuum anyway...it doesn't seem super-efficient, but tbh they never do function like those tv adverts, do they?
Caught my dungaree clip and broke it...so now I am finishing with a dud vacuum, looking like an elderly, dodgy, slightly androgenous au pair! Or like the dude with designer off-the-shoulder dungies we chuckled at on the prom in the summer...
Oh, I found my ear-cuff too. Not in the compost-heap, you'll be glad to hear - in the dog's blanket!
And you may well ask why there is a doggie 'dentastick' in the peg-bucket...ask away - I have no idea!
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