When I'm working, I find my dreams to be more jagged and disquieting. Stood at the top of the stairs in the flat looking at the front door, and seeing the figure of a man through the frosted glass. I was afraid that he was the landlord's son (in waking life our landlord is a landlady) and he would want access to the house. In another dream, I could not find something I needed to give to someone at work. My desk was a mess, covered in papers.
It is growing increasingly cold at night now, as we slip toward yet another winter. It looks a grey, still day outside - at least the glimpse I get from between the curtains. I was fortunate in my week off last week. ah well, ten minutes and I've got to go out into that grey, still day, and another absurdly busy day at work.
