June 12th, 2002

masked

howwible dreams ... i is disturbed

Annoyed by something, my subconscious rewards me with a night of dreams featuring a level of symbolism so blatant I can only assume it was meant ironically. Example: I am locked into a room as part of a psychology experiment with a life-size hardboard standee of me wrapped in thorns. I have to hug it before they will let me out of the room. Come on!

Later, things got stranger. We were sat in my room looking up the hill through the french windows as a car bumped down it to crash into the standing stone. Neal (a vegetarian friend) was in the corner of picking at the well-cooked meat of a half-covered up side of something or other. "I've got some game here to keep me going," he says. I start to say, "Do you mind, I have to sleep in here," but I'm embarrassed, so say nothing. The people get out of the car and begin to lurch down the hill. It's Edina and Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous. I ask Neal for some of the meat and he passes me a chunk, and I start to eat it. We agree we should let them in, and Edina's secretary (Bubbles?) climbs under the french windows (there's a man-size fox-hole under them), passes them an enormous key, and then scuttles back into the room, leaving them holding the key. The meat I'm eating seems to be getting softer and rawer, and I notice it has a lot of bone in it. I turn it over and realise it looks a lot like part of a human hand, from the wrist to the knuckles, no fingers and thumb ...

Just what I like, waking up with the taste of human flesh in my mouth. Urgh.
  • Current Music
    lola rennt -- introduction
onthephone

a breakthrough, of sorts /where the big ideas are

Got it. The reason I couldn't do any more work (apart from being a lousy wastrel who'd much rather be watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E., or, failing that, drinking) was that I was unhappy with my planned structure for the section I was supposed to be doing next. That's why, every time I started to work on it, I was filled with horror, misery, and doubt (also probably partly down to aversion therapy: this *was* the thing I was trying to get started on while I was sharing the room with smelly B) and it had nothing at all to do with being totally sick of my job. Two hours with pen and paper approaching it thematically rather than structurally (think not what thy department is called, but what it does, roughly) and I had a new and fairly comprehensible structure which would do the job for a mere 22 pages -- a big improvement on the over-comprehensive, rather dry, and depressingly extendable model I had before. This one will also (grin) allow me to turn down new content, while making me less dependent on contributors, both very good things. Let's hope it looks as good tomorrow.

In apology for talking shop, and to reassure you that I am still wasting some time, I fed "schitzophrenic eccentric divide" into google (looking at doing a page for spired about being unhappy, got sidetracked) and fetched up at the Halfbakery looking at Two Cats Mad, a system for rating eccentricity through cat ownership. Sticking with mental health (as that was what I was researching) I then checked out the Stoicism Parrot, Portable Judgement, and the extremely unpleasant sounding Tarantula injector. A bit like playing the The Big Idea but with a bilge filter. Witness the comedic value of hearing people discussing the technical viability of Custard-filled speed bumps. Discover the pros and cons of Voices in the head caller ID. And, for Captioneers: discover the unique pleasures of the Film noir home.
  • Current Music
    vague background roar of football supporters