Mystical dream interpretation

I had the oddest dream. There were lots of odd things about it, not least the fact that it was serialized. It took me three nights, that dream did, but I finally finished it last night.

Now, if you think about this dream, you might think that it has some significance. There are lots of things about it that might be significant. Then again, they probably aren’t: not significantly significant anyway. Doesn’t matter, at the very least, it signifies that I sleep.

In my dream, there were copies of me (yes, I know: impossible, I am far too amazing to be duplicated, but there they were). They stood on a red cliff inside a cave: red ambient lighting, very moody, very Dante-esque.

At first, there was just one simulacrum, but every time I made a choice between one course of action and another, yet another copy of me would appear on the cliff. It was very annoying and symbolic.

So I tried killing them with an axe (at this point the dream went into graphic novel mode and got quite arty) but the more of them I killed, the more sprang up. Eventually, I worked out that I had to kill the fake me’s in the correct order, starting with the first one to appear and ending with the last.

The problem with that was that they all looked the same (like me), so I had no way of knowing which one was which. In the end, it turned out that the copies of me had serial numbers chalked onto them, and I derived great satisfaction from dispatching the lot of them over the cliff with the help of the axe (which I’ve mentioned before).

Funny dream: very satisfying bumping off all those me’s, too, believe it or not.

I interpret this dream as signifying that I should probably not get an axe.

Today's pic: circa 2007, but I am still capable of this, and therefore anything.

Happiness is

Well, I’ve had some of my insides removed, and as you can imagine, it’s jolly sore. What’s more, it’s ever such a bore lying in bed the whole time and so I’m very happy to find that I can sit fairly comfortably for a bit today. It probably won’t be for all that long though. Sitting hurts.

I’ve stopped smoking too. I’ve never managed to stop for as much as a day in the last twenty-five years, but then I was stuck in hospital for a few days, and I decided not to smoke again thereafter. Sigh. I miss it, you know. It almost feels like I’ve lost part of my self.

There are four and a bit weeks before I’m allowed to do anything ‘strenuous’. The doctor defines that as what I usually call ‘moving about and doing stuff’, so I have to be careful not to move about or do stuff.

All in all, though, I’ve been lucky. I have a neat little cut that hasn’t gone all oozy, and I’m told my op was an absolute doddle to do, which I’m assuming means it went well. People have been kind, too, and helpful beyond any expectation. I’m having it easy.

It is, however, the sorest sore I’ve ever had in my entire life and I haven’t even had the bill yet: sufficient unto the day the evil thereof. For now, my outlook remains sunny-ish and the future seems, if not bright, then at least mildly effulgent.

I’m assuming (perhaps rather optimistically) that after having lived through my mother’s illness, her death, my diagnosis, my brother’s accusations of fraud and my surgery, all in the last six months, I’m due for a little bit of peace and quiet.

I’m hoping that this will reflect in my blog, which will regress from being a rant against outrageous fortune, to being the random mutterings and occasional brain-farts it was in better days.

One important thing I’ve learned: Happiness is the ability to lie on one’s side when one wants to.

Today's pic: something happy. Note: it is lying on its side. Proof positive!