Reve

So I had this weird dream last night. I was walking around and it was really dry and it seemed like I was in a really hot country. There were loads of us walking around (people I've not seen in years), thirsty and there were randoms on the side of the road trying to get us to buy their wares as they needed money for their families because there was a drought. However, none of us had any money either. In all, it was pretty grim. Then we hear this dripping noise and we all go bananas because obviously dripping is associated with water. There's this massive fence to the right hand side of us and one of the blokes we were with pulled himself up to look over the fence. Behind the fence was the deepest valley ever, filled with water. Turns out there is a conspiracy masterminded by the rich to kill all the poor people on the planet and once they're all dead they'll release all the water and the Earth will only be inhabited by rich people and things like debt will be eradicated and everyone will be as happy as Larry. Then I woke up.

Because I believe massively that dreams are an illustration of where your heads at the first thing I did when I got to work was look it up. Apparently,

To see a dam in your dream, signifies repressed emotions or feelings that needs to be released.

According to my friends at work this seems quite accurate. Clearly they know something about me I don't. I know I'm currently repressing just how much I can't be bothered with work all day every day (I'm writing this as I should be doing Attachment of Earnings for 'non performing, non homeowners'. Non performing, homeowners, non homeowners, performing, charging orders. Life is rubbish when you owe The Man lots of money).

I'm also addicted to this girl's blog that is linked from Bunnyboy. She's a marine biologist and she is currently in the Phillipines. She updates her blog and her Flickr constantly with crazy fish and the bluest skies I've ever seen in my life. It depresses me to be sat at my desk looking at the most metaphorically grey people I've ever met. I got told today that my attire could be described as "4th of July". So I'm wearing red tights and a star print dress. I'm keeping it real for the Americas. Big Dog in the house and all that. (Although it's ironic that I was just discussing the US with my Dad last night and how they've totally fucked Iraq. Did you know that this time around in Iraq they've not bothered to keep a head count of all the Iraqi civilians who have died. Why? Because last time they did and it was a PR disaster. How many civilians died? Oh millions. Fuck. This time if we don't count we can just say, "Don't know", which is a whole lot better. Bollocks.)

To recap, I have wanderlust. And I really need a holiday.