The psychology of dreams

I had a dream. I had a baby and it was a chocolate matchmaker. I think I might have killed it by not feeding it. But I couldn't tell if it was dead or not as I didn't know how to except by seeing its eyes move and its eyes were closed and wouldn't open. So I think it probably was dead, which might have been for the best as it didn't have any arms or legs either. And also, presumably, it was made by Nestle. And that would have caused a few ethical problems.

That was one of the less odd of my dreams.

I should record, for posterity, that Wales beat Fiji (by one point) in a game that was more depressing than the thrashing by the All Blacks the week before. Wales were also beaten by South Africa by quite a lot (although a try was scored at the last minute so I don't count that) but Wales played more like their last season selves. A bit more like them anyway.

The All Blacks also beat England. We watched the game in the White Rose. I couldn't cheer for anybody. I sort of wanted England to win and sort of wanted them to lose. It was a predicament.

I am starting a serious diet again today. My weight has gone up quite significantly over the last week (but nothing to do with the biggest tub of Maltesers you have ever seen because everyone knows that Maltesers have the less fattening centres.) So you can expect my blog to become far more gloomy and downbeat.

There was a squirrel, a jay and a magpie and they were all eyeing up our nuts. The squirrel ate his fill then started burying them. The magpie watched where he buried them and dug them up. The jay frightened everyone off whenever he felt like.

I saw a card today. It said: If God had intended me to touch my toes, he would have put chocolate on the floor.

I should also record that I have a cough (slight), a mouth ulcer (nasty) and a lump on my chin where I punched myself.