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Strange and almost nightmarish dreams last night. In part one of the dream, Italy was taken over by a generally unpleasant government which abducted me from Cambridge and held me as a political prisoner; then I escaped across the border to a neighbouring country, and in part two I attempted to catch a series of trains back to England. The odd thing is that part two was a lot longer, more stressful and much more unpleasant and nightmarish than part one. Evidently I had underestimated my subconscious's dislike of train travel!
(Also Italy seemed to turn into Spain half way through and I didn't notice the discrepancy until I woke up, which suggests I need to get in touch with my inner continuity man…)
This morning, I woke up feeling fabulously refreshed, came in to work, and discovered that I'd received mail from someone whose surname is ‘Wible’. If I didn't know better I'd swear that was an omen heralding a good day.
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No, Simon, you do not need to get any more pedantic than you already are :)
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On the subject of good names: this guy had the coolest name ever.
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