Reflexive

[what I call the Meadway roundabout, snapped from Street View. A place I visit quite often, quite often presently when it has just got dark. A place I nearly always visit on my way to London. In what follows, it is not made clear whether it is light or dark. The path to the right is in poor condition and, in parts, quite bumpy with roots, not very trolley friendly in the dark. Easy enough to stumble or even fall. The grass to the left used to contain four rose beds, but neither the council nor the householders around could be bothered with them and they were eventually grassed over, maybe ten or fifteen years ago now. You can still see where the beds used to be when they cut the grass. A regrettable loss of community spirit to my mind]

I suppose, given that I spend time on this blog and that I dream a fair bit, remembering my dream (on waking at least) maybe one night in two, one would expect the two things to meet up occasionally. Which does indeed seem to be the case, with a very clear example last night. It now being Saturday morning.

There seemed to be a journey to London, which I would normally blog about, but it was all slightly anomalous, although I was oddly clear about when this happened, either the 6th or 7th of January. There were three telephone snaps, probably involving the trolley, from the Meadway roundabout (above), but there was something not quite right about them and there did not seem to be anything else. Perhaps I had gone to London on some mission or other, got to Waterloo, changed my mind and then came home again without having done anything much at all? 

Still inside the dream, I thought that it should be easy enough to check: if I had travelled there would be a trace on one of my two credit card accounts (of which I actually have just one), the statements for which were just in (which was half true). That would put the matter to bed, and if the journey did take place, I could blog about it in the now usual way. It took rather a long time to wake up out of all this and work out that it was just a dream. I didn't look at the clock until later, but maybe 5 or 10 minutes worth?

I guess an advantage of being wired up in a sleep laboratory (which figure in television dramas like 'Lewis' and which I assume really do exist), would be that proper times would be available for the whole thing.

Having woken up, for the avoidance of doubt, I checked that activity was already recorded on the blog for the 6th, 7th and 8th of January. I checked the pictures on my telephone, conveniently organised by date. The time was accounted for without bringing the Meadway roundabout into the picture. I also checked my credit card statement and there were no unexpected or otherwise forgotten journeys there. All just a dream.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/01/fishcotheque.html. 8th.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/01/pork-soup.html. 7th.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/01/lidl-calling.html.6th.