hot and frightened

Yep, you guessed right: still no power at Chez Melina as of Friday afternoon. While the house isn't unbearably hot right now, I don't think I'll be able to sleep there tonight. Thankfully I've been offered alternative accommodation.

I had an odd and horrid nightmare last night. I dreamed I was in London, and decided to walk from the ritzy Chelsea section to the less ritzy Fleet Street. But during my walk, the city changed from modern to Dark Ages. Eventually I was lost in a maze of dark warehouse-like structures which contained only piles of dead bodies or dying people. Everyone was gray, even those still alive. I would back away from one, trying to find my way out of the maze of buildings, but kept coming upon the entrance of one after another. Some were especially grotesque, as the bodies were not only dead, they were putrefying to where they were partially or entirely liquid, the non-liquified body parts floating in shallow ditches. What the police call a decomp, I think.

Eventually I found my way out in strange fashion; I was carried out by someone with a forklift, after receiving a grim warning from the forklift driver about the evils of demon rum. Considering I have about two drinks a year - the last one I had was with DD last year, and it was a small Dalwhinnie - I couldn't figure out why I was being warned off booze.