Bad Dreams and Cold Days.

I have bad dreams nearly every night. I’ve been having bad dreams nearly every night for what seems like a very long time. It wouldn’t be true to say that I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have bad dreams nearly every night, because I do; it’s just that I don’t remember how long ago it was. A few years, certainly.

They’re never the really nasty nightmare kind of bad dream, so I can’t blame them on my habit of watching Japanese horror stories nearly every night. They’re more the uncomfortable sort of dreams which precipitate premature waking feeling troubled, anxious, under pressure, that kind of thing. They used to fall into one of three categories:

1. Living in a ramshackle house with broken down walls and water pouring through the ceiling.

2. Being in unfamiliar buildings habited by unfamiliar people with whom I don’t feel comfortable, and sometimes having to do things which are highly perilous and induce fear.

3. Being in an unfamiliar landscape and knowing that I have a very long way to walk in order to go home. Sometimes I know the way; sometimes I’m lost and have difficulty working out which way to go.

More recent ones have been different. I’m among people and spot somebody who I know and want to talk to. I approach them to engage in conversation, but they deny recognition and ignore me. And I’m sure it’s no coincidence that the two major ‘culprits’ in this latest type of bad dream are both women I used to know called Sarah. Isn’t life strange?

And today has been mostly a waking bad dream. It started with yet another equipment malfunction which further eroded the prospect of heating the house adequately this winter. Still, I have an extra duvet which I can wrap around me to keep hypothermia away, although I doubt it’s easy to type blog posts with a duvet wrapped around you. Some choice. The waking bad-dream-day continued from there…

And on the subject of being cold, I lived in a small, single storey cottage through one very cold winter once (up north, where it’s a bit grim.) There was no heating in the bedroom, and so I went to bed fully clothed and covered with two duvets. (I did take my shoes off, though, just in case I accidentally kicked myself during the night.) In the morning I would keep myself well wrapped up while I endeavoured to scrape the thick ice off the inside of the window. Pity I didn’t just stop breathing; it would have saved a lot of effort. It’s what happens when you’ve never chased money, your financial position is becoming perilous because the Prime Minister’s policies are killing your career, and you’ve just left your (now ex) partner living in the house which she owns.

Life is such fun when you don’t play it by the book.