Perverted Dreaming

I had a dream last night. A totally ordinary dream. For some reason I haven't been remembering my dreams very well for a number of months so this is an occasion for me.

I dreamed that I was living on an old farm and someone had left all their stuff in my barn. I didn't know who the person was, just that it was a man, that he was a pervert (yes, yes, pot-kettle-black) and we had been on friendly terms at some point (i'm assuming, why else the free storage?). In any case, the guy went on the lam and I was very confident he was never coming back for his stuff. Don't ask me how I knew, I just knew. So, I called a bunch of friends over to help me clean out the barn. One woman said she would try to sell what stuff was sell-able and if there were any profits she would share them among those of us who cleaned out the barn.

A few days later I get a call: she got $54,000 for his stuff! This was a total surprise. My share was going to be $8,000 and I decided to pay off credit card debt. You may note that it did not for one second occur to me to give this money to the guy - perverts have fewer rights in dreams, too, apparently.

But then, as I showered and went through my morning routine, an evil thought came into my head. A bad, bad, no-good, stinky, evil, bad thought. It occurred to me that with the Underground bombings in London that airfare to that fair city was going to plummet. I love London. It occurred to me that this would be an optimal moment to skip off to London for three or four days. Alone. All alone. Privately. Four days of aloneness wandering London. Go see Aphra Behn's tomb again. Eat Chinese and Indian to my heart's content. Ahhh. As, of coure, I just came into $8,000.

It is very difficult to remember that I did not come into $8,000 today.