I woke from a dream last night, at the point where the gay skinhead high-voice scots nyaff from the Communards kept singing, in falsetto, "there's a lack of energy, there's a lack of love". It wasn't an existing lyric, it was just words that my dream made up.
When I see Doc Bob he'll have a field day, especially after the previous dream about appearing in court with an incoherent defence.
I did a lot of yoga in the middle of the night last night, after being awake for a couple of hours, chewing over events from the pub yesterday evening. Being hard on myself for the things I said and did during the send-off for the clients. It's true I was pretty socially stressed - because of the job responsibility, I felt bound to keep saying stuff, despite having nothing to say. Nothing socially appropriate at least.
It may be time to increase the bliss pillage dosage.
The thing is, I'm alright in the work setting, in fact I'm fantastic there.
Well at least the farewell feedback I got in the pub was all good. Clients going out of their way to praise me to my face and to the bosses. And that was just the male clients. Imagine if I had stayed for a second beer and waited for the female feedback! I could only have disgraced myself.