I know I've said it before but if dreams have any true reflection on a person's mental state, I fear it may already be too late for me. I woke this morning with I guess an over due panic attack. Had I thought I'd found yet another blasted tumour I might even have forgiven my brain for choosing for us to start the day in such an undignified manner but do you know what I was dreaming of when this panic attack arrived? Was it cancer? Murder even? Nope! I woke up, panic attacking up to the eye balls after I dreamt Elton John was on the Graham Norton show at the introduction bit wearing nothing but a mesh mankini that they'd decorated to look like a fish and you could see EVERYTHING! Ack the scarring! I'm sure Elton John would be as equally unimpressed with my imagination for conjuring up that slumber beauty!
It occurs to me that this cancer lark has been a whole lot of displacement. Why worry about it not going away, coming back, making you crazy, leaving you scarred and the like when you can fill your days worrying about friends, work, being a Wolverine knock off, Elton John's blatant nudity on the BBC, whether you remembered to wear matching shoes, the possibility that you're starting to look like a manatee...all normal things.
I'm still in a good mood despite my rude awakening. I look like I've been hit in the face with a walrus (tiredness) but I balanced this pain with two new pairs of shoes, a new handbag and leaving Hairy with the news that he's the only badger for me!
I've discovered another new part of my body. I've got two symmetrical ones so I'm sure they should be there so I feel I've learned something. Let's hope the day goes well.
