This morning was just odd. I had gone to bed yesterday at around 11pm, which is fast becoming the norm for me. During the night, i had a wierd ass dream in which i had a family and had moved into a 4 storey granite farm building. We lived next door to a racist neighbour who was the stereotypical BNP voter, you know - thick. My fictitious wife and kids were scared of him and his scary wife, so i invited them round for drinks and shot them both. If that wasn't wierd enough, whilst happily burying their fat, bloated and very dead bodies, i twisted my ankle, which was annoying, but the dream carried on in a rather mundane fashion.
When i woke up however, I found that i had indeed, twisted my ankle in the middle of the night. I feel a little like Neo just after that sparring session with Morhpheus....
It's a little spooky if you ask me!
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