On the Duloxetine, I am sleeping well. I am sleeping too well. I sleep well all night and given the chance I'd sleep well all day. I've only been taking the little chaps for just over a week so maybe this is an initial side effect. Or maybe the old pills are still in my system, increasing the drowsy effect. Or maybe I'm turning into a modern day Rip Van Winkle. I am becoming my avatar.
Of course getting a good night's sleep means plenty of opportunity to dream. And now my main dream interpreter seems to have too many questions of his own, I'd like to throw last night's dreams open to the House. Does anybody else think I'm losing it?
Dream One - My sister gives birth to five large white seahorses. Thankfully I do not see the birth, but I see them joyfully bobbing around in a tank of water.
Dream Two - Bob Geldof approaches a group of us in a pub. He is collecting money for starving Africans. Everybody enthusiastically gives apart from me. I tell him to "f**k off, you c**t".
Dream Three - I am walking towards the train station from school. I have to walk through an alley which is blocked by a gauntlet of two rows of boys from another school. One of them checks my train ticket. He is not happy with it and is about to hit me when he is called away to another fight.
God knows what I'd be like on acid. I'm such a lightweight.