Well, I’ve been doing this blogging business for three months now, and it would appear that’s already too long. Last night I had an anxiety dream about WordPress.
Anxiety dreams are often depressingly transparent, like a smashed window, and this one was no exception. I dreamt I had quoted somebody and not credited them properly, and a commenter had noticed this and ripped me to pieces for it, and all my new bloggy friends deserted me.
My subconscious commenter also pointed out that ‘he finishes all his sentences with full stops, the prick.’ As well as being quite mean, this is also not actually a problem, unless a question or exclamation mark is required, and as such was monstrously unfair.
It would seem that even releasing my worries into the blogosphere is itself too stressful. Anus.
On a related note, I once dreamt I was a loaf of bread, and I had to escape the boulangerie before the baker caught me and sliced me up. I hid on a shelf until I woke up. I had toast for breakfast.
What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?