We have a whiteboard in the Bristol office, which I recently filled in with a month-by-month plan of projects for the rest of 2008. Yesterday one of my staff filled in some of the blanks, and although he'd used his neatest writing, it was in lower case not capitals and I was agonising whether to rub it out and write it in capitals, or whether they'd all think I was being even more anal than usual.
But on arriving in the office today, after my constituency surgery, the extra writing had disappeared.... And the staff looked completely blank when I asked them about it.
That's when it dawned on me I'd actually dreamt it all last night. I realise how sad that makes me sound.
Friday, 8 August 2008
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1 comment:
Sounds as though you have an inner 'Monica Monitor' emerging in your dreams - and she's trying to tell you something.
Best wishes,
Jungish Freud
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