w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:
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"Feeling so tired, can't understand it
Just had a fortnight's sleep
I'm feeling so tired, I'm so distracted
Ain't touched a thing all week

I'm feeling drunk, juiced up, excited
Ain't touched a drink all night
I'm feeling hungry, can't see the reason
Just ate a horse meat pie

Yeah when you call my name
I salivate like a Pavlov dog
Yeah when you lay me out
My heart is beating louder than a big bass drum, alright."

The Rolling Stones: "Bitch"
From the album: "Sticky fingers"

In my still non-alcohol-fuelled dream (the diet-sponsoring GP has persuaded Mrs.D. to 'go for the burn' in order to come off all lifetime-projected, blood pressure-reducing medication, so still no wine for another 3 weeks or so!) I went to a 'place of torture' with several strangers and then spent an hour lying on a bed, equally miffed about not joining in and equally pleased not to be wasting my energies on unrewarding exercise.

At the end of the hour, I went for a beer and by the time I'd finished it, they were ready for their next session.

While I, of course, needed to rest.

"But your dog desperately needs a walk" they chorused, poiting en masse to a supine mini-Dobermann lying on a pillow under a duvet.

"Yeah, right it does" I gave back.

Wtf are all these nightmares coming from?

Maybe it's not the lack of stimulant that's giving me such vivid (and, for me, unusually memorable) dreams?

Perhaps it's the new diet? (Just joshing, Witchy, if you're still out there?)

Labels: Diet, Dreamery