Kitty: Monday 8th December.

Three dreams.

The night before last - having a dinner party at a pool. Restaurant/pool - you get theatre restaurants? Well this was a pool restaurant. Swimming in the pool. Getting changed in the toilets. Too wet. Too Chloriney. Supposed to be going out after. Red wine. Sam and Sarah getting changed two doors down, crammed into one cubicle. The others are empty.

The night before that - ski resort. Pods that you sit in and zoom up the mountain, stopping at various intervals. Parents, I think. Dark. Like that maths game with the snow wookie. There's danger. We're in a car and we drive it off the road and onto the train tracks running along a massively high cliff; because there is a ridge of varying steepness between the two thoroughfares we can't get the car back over. Bad bad bad. Find a spot- the car is no longer the issue, there is a big green tin money box instead. Place it carefully, it's heavy.
Switch to: a Bannockburnesque property, only much more expansive and rambling a la (a little) gone with the wind. Grand wild west villas and relationships of banal intrigue. Who was smiling at whom?

Two nights earlier - a party: I'm really quite rude to a couple of people. Two or maybe three. One of them is K's new squeeze. In reality I actually really like her. In dreamland I act like a twisted alpha-female ex-girlfriend. The next day we are in a boat in the sea. Think the David Attenborough deep waters: making of. Three of us. The other two are pissed - it was mutual friends who took the brunt of my party mood. The game is jump onto the back of the shark/whale that is coming nearer by the minute and ride it for a decent time- think minutes. I am freaked and still slightly grumpy. Two seconds after landing on the animal's back I am flung back onto the boat with quite a horrific crash. The others are inactive.