Wednesday

the trouble with the tommy. (edited)

i had a genuinely nested dream yesterday. i actually woke up into another dream, and realised i had been dreaming, but not that i was still dreaming. and i think after that, i woke again into a dream of waking up in bed, or i might have actually woken up twice in quick succession, because after that i did actually wake up and things were a bit different. the blinds were up and i'm sure it looked funny outside.. like when you fall asleep on the sofa and you dream that the people around you are talking to you and then you wake up when you try to respond and find they're paying you no mind.

the other night i dreampt i was chang tzu. that was wierd.

i got a text from tommy, ex-brighton-house-mate, on sunday night gone 9, as i was making my last rounds before bed (re-discovering the joys of beautiful agony dot com again was fantastic, after descending into a period of... less subtle... entertainment). he 'needed a place to stay' monday night. i had already arranged for to see barney that evening, which i wasn't going to cancel as it's been over a year and he can't come to the PARTY, but what could i do but say yes? i wondered how he had got into the situation of being in london and waiting for his flat to be vacated, and therefore is couch-surfing, and thought, ah, how very tommy.

barney is lovely and good and stuff, and it's tragic that i've been living a ten minute tube journey from him for four months. we went to a nice enough pub, and tommy and i et, although the veggy options were limited and all involved quorn.

tuesday morning, when i had the dream, and my hair stank of other people's fags from the night before, even though we were in the no smoking area, he asked me 'is it okay if i stay tonight as well?'

well yes, i saw no problem with that. we stayed in with dan (who asked who he was, and if i minded telling him if people were staying over)that night; i made saag chana gobi masala and we watched syrano, which was very good, but for, me berjerac will always be john nettles.

this morning, i got out of the shower, and he was gone. to work, at least; his bag was still here.

the story will end eventually; he's going home tomorrow, back near grimsby. but in that case, what is he doing here in the first place? not that i'm sorry to see him. but it's a bit like tommy pinball.

and why is everyone moving to bethnal green?

edit: his bag had actually gone, but his shoes and odd little plastic bag remained. turns out he'd left his shoes because they didn't fit right and he was staying at future house mate libby's tonight.
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