An extremely vivid dream: I'm in T's sports car, and we go to his office, only his law firm has merged with about four others (it was called Cameron XXXXX Chance), but when we got there, the office was a building exactly like my school building, but with the name over the front, and fourteen year olds doing some kind of security duty. Then T has to do negotiate a deal with one of the security people, and drops me off with all my bags. I ask for directions to my office, which turns out to be right behind (it's an office I worked in four years ago on Mortimer Street).
When I go inside, it's extremely dingy, like a victorian workhouse or something, and people have shit light and crap desks and are beavering away scared. It looks exactly like a place I interviewed in three weeks ago. I run into all the people I don't want to, and eventually hide in the toilet with my bags (small handbag, two large bags of... I don't know, and my sony vaio in a squashy canvas PC case). When I leave, I go and have a sleep on a bed on Mortimer Street. I put on a very short t-shirt (don't ask me why, I usually sleep nekkid), and am conscious of people in the cafe next door (which doesn't exist) trying to see up my t-shirt. I get into bed, it's the middle of day, and know I've left my bags on the opposite side of the street, and keep thinking to myself "I'll get them in a minute." I'm conscious that T said he would be an hour, and it feels like mcuh longer. When I get out of bed, I'm momentarily distracted by cafe dwellers commenting on the shortness of my t-shirt, and even though I've had my eye on my bags the whole time, they're all gone, apart from my Vaio. I don't lose it, but I am stressed; my cards, cash, phone, clothes have gone, and I have no way of calling T to see when he's coming.
As if my magic (as Mr Benn would say) Jane, a girl I went to nursery school with, and haven't seen for ten years (apart from when I ran into her in the Muswell Hill Odeon a couple of weeks back) appears. I'm tearful, and explain my predicament, and that I can't walk around Oxford Circus with a short T-shirt and no knickers. She's very practical, and says I should buy some new clothes, and when I explain that my cash and cards have gone, she says she'll get some. She asks me which shop to go to, and I tell her, and say that I just want leggings and a sweat-shirt, and as she walks off, I yell "don't forget I'm a size sixteen!" and the whole of Oxford Circus turns round and stares.
Inexplicably, I go off to buy some smoked salmon (I'm pretty much a vegetarian) in an Oxford Circus smoked salmon shop that doesn't exist. I'm in my t-shirt, and buy £1 worth of salmon, paying for it from loose change at the bottom of my computer bag. The man in the shop tries to organise a whip-round for me, but I refuse. I just want to get home and cancel my cards. I don't know where T is. I wake up.
Anyone have any idea at all what this means? I'm just surprised by the level of detail I remember.
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