Desmond & the Steam Roly-poly.

I woke up this morning feeling strangely like a failure. You know how it's like -- you wake up one morning and your hair rejects all commands to "stay down"; the tube of toothpaste is almost all out, forcing you to take on the role of a steam roller, flattening out whatever little mint-flavoured paste there is left for the toothbrush -- that you've just knocked into the toilet bowl. You can't find a proper shirt to hide the beerbelly, your pants are splotched pink from what you suspect must be your lucky red underwear (which probably isn't red, or lucky, anymore) and OH MY WORD MY HAIR JUST WON'T STAY DOWN!

Well, this morning was something like that, except the rush of negativity hit me before I even got out of bed.

The moment I awoke, I stared into the ceiling wondering why I was feeling frustrated and unaccomplished. It took just a few seconds, and then I realised that I was dreaming about being confined in a guarded semi-abandoned house with secret passages. In the dream, I was about to escape when I met an actress and some guards, and decided to help them open a chute, thereby forgoing my chance to escape.

That was why I felt so frustrated. I didn't get to escape! Some dreams feel so distant and unachieveable.
Must have been all those reports of quarantines in the papers. (That said, I'm glad the situation is getting better.)

Sometimes dreams make for great fun.