In a last ditch attempt to cure my headaches, dyed my hair green. Surprisingly effective, but this morning dreamt about my friend Betty, in an anxiety dream full of slopes getting steeper, doorways getting narrower, gaps in the hedge being a bit further away than you thought, etc., etc. Her clothes were a mumsy pale green (unusual enough in itself, Betty is a firm tweeds and sensible-grey lady) but so was her skin, her hair, and even the whites of her eyes. She's on holiday at the moment, and I got that moment of sucking fear that comes when you dream a bad dream about an absent friend. My hair isn't pale green, though, it's a green as bright as parrots or paint.

Couldn't be bothered to think of anything else to wear, so wore the same slogan all weekend, all weekend reminded of my tmididity that I hadn't really dared put "manless and baby-hungry" across my chest when I was spending the afternoon working in the bookshop and instead had grabbed an obscure slogan from my Lain lunchbox: close the world open the next. Spent the afternoon explaining it to people. And sorting books. And the rest of the weekend wearing it, but strangers don't care about wierd slogans when there's green hair on display. One guy came out of his shop for a stare and wow and can-I-touch-it. Said it was his first green hair. Offered me a special deal on sunglasses but all the sunglasses that looked like they matched my hair didn't.