I had a rotten night last night. Couldn’t get into a deep sleep. Was still just dozing at 5.53am. I did have one dream though.
I was back in the house of my childhood (I never dream about the house we moved to when I was 14), under attack from zombies. No surprises there as I’ve just finished reading the fantastic World War Z by Max Brooks. It tells the stories of the people who survived the zombie war. Even if you don’t like zombies, you should check it out because it’s so well written.
Anyway, we had sticks with sharpened ends to ram into their heads. Most of the zombies died (again) straight away. Except the middle class ones. The sticks wouldn’t go into their heads. Yesterday I had a rant at work about the ridiculousness of David Penberthy’s piece in The Punch, complaining about how no one has asked men what they think of female body image. Because, you know, middle class blokes always struggle to be heard.