I awake and it’s later then I thought.
I remember details of the dream I was in before I woke up. Myself lost in Whitechapel, London. I find myself getting mugged when I’m in an area after dark that’s teeming with people near to the McDonalds. Someone tries to take my phone at knifepoint which after struggling decide to release the phone. But then I do a jab to the throat and then the situation has changed and it’s not an actual mugging and I find myself explaining the basics of self defence to the person who turns out to be a journalist or some such thing.
My mind has no experience of an actual crime of that magnitude, and despite being robbed of a small sum of money whilst abroad, that was entirely a mental theft then a physical mugging. The reason for being in London escapes me though. In the dream i’m travelling to meet somebody but I’ve taken a wrong turn.
Most of this is likely prompted by the curiosity of the Olympic area being built in Stratford, and how it came to be in that area. I investigated it at work recently on Google Maps when I listened to the Interview with the former mayor of London, Ken Livingstone.
Anyway the day begins. I send an email off to the Driving school. I’ve arranged to do lessons everyday next week so that I can start towards the proficiency I need to actually pass the Practical test. Being in the car everyday will hopefully ingrain it into a habit a little bit more. I’m looking forward to my favourite procedure…Gear control (not my favourite procedure).
I also send an email to the local dancing school enquiring about Salsa lessons. A man must be proficient in all areas of his life of course. If I can be confident of dancing then I will crush it. The last person in this family that could realistically dance was my grandparents. What is this society.
Anyway, time for breakfast and action
The Journey 