I can’t blame Wednesday’s non-dreaming on being drunk after all, because yesterday I went to the pub for lunch and, um, carried on drinking all day. But I did dream. It wasn’t very exciting though. I was outside my parents’ house in Ilford and a police car turned up and a policeman got out and said I had to get in the car. The policeman said I was being arrested and I was going to go to prison for six years. He didn’t say what I’d done though.
Then I was in some kind of hotel or something with a girl and we’d asked for a twin room because we were sharing (must have been a dream, I never share hotel rooms) and it was the tiniest, dirtiest, shabbiest room ever and it had a double bed in it, not twin beds. We looked in the bathroom and it was disgusting. Then I showed another girl to a room and it was massive. The ceilings were about fifty feet tall and there were heavy red velvet curtains covering the windows.
And that was about it really. Not very exciting, I did warn you.