Here is this morning’s dream. As I was typing the title I looked at the date in the bottom right hand corner of my screen and noted a numerological internal consistency.

The dream starts at some kind of motorway service station in the UK. It is like an old style Tebay but now there is a pub attached. I have parked my car which looks like an old-school 911. It looks beat up but can go fast. {Think Big Chill}. I have with me only my day sack. I have lost weight and am moving freely. I am travelling light and fluid.

I go into the services bar and there I meet A6. He is sat drinking a tall beer with two friends roughly the same age as him. I say hi and join them at a high bar table with stools. They are joshing about. A6  is planning a party back in London, to which he invites me even though we are hundreds of miles away. He asks if I can lend him a few thousand pounds, five or six. I think this odd because I know that he is now loaded and has been on a good salary in America. His mates now have comedy false noses on and are taking selfies. A6 gives me a large modern looking clock-watch which he says that I can have as collateral for the loan. He says that it is his father’s watch and that it means a lot to him. I am unsure as to if he is taking the piss in a Pulp Fiction sense. He and his mates get up and leave. I say that I will get back to him.

On a table nearby is the ex-wife. I am surprised to see her and not overly pleased. I go over to see what it is that she wants and is after. I explain that A6 is after some money. She says that I should not give it to him. This is because she wants it. In the dream I am mightily surprised that anyone could imagine that I have any money, money to spare. She is pressing that she should benefit from the money. I find the situation cloying and leave.

I go back to my car and drive off. I am heading towards London. I getting a little tired. So I pull into a service station just outside the M25. I queue up and get a coffee waiting in line at an old-style cafeteria. With my coffee in a paper cup I go outside onto a pub garden lawn. There is a pub style table there and a fairly glamorous woman is sat there smoking. I ask if I may join her. She says yes. I note that unusually she is smoking using a cigarette holder, femme fatale. We have a brief chat and she suggests to me that all may not be as it seems. This concurs with my gut feel. I spark up a cigarette and drink my coffee.

I get back in my car and drive further into another service station with a pub attached. I go inside and sit at a table for coffee. I am joined by a tall Asian man in a suit. He looks city finance. I show him the watch and explain that someone I know is asking for a loan imagining that I have come into money. He says that the watch may be worth something but that is about time and not money. He suggests that I have a look at my ‘phone to see if there are any messages from A6.

I boot up my ‘phone which I almost never use. Up pops a quasi-secret group chat which unencrypts so that I can read it. I have accidentally been included. It is an application which I am unfamiliar with. The screen fills with message after message to and fro, in a bright green small font. Encapsualted within the text are brief video snippets and images. I am the subject of the group chat and its contents are all about me. I remember when I last interacted with A6 it occurred to me that given the modus of people I was once acquainted with that these interactions were being more widely reported. Indeed A6 may even have been put up to it, encouraged. I know that this is a part of a much wider information gather and I am not pleased even though I know it typical. I think that they are fucking things up. There is nothing I can do about it. I know in the dream that it is a very bad idea for them to do this.

I am to carry on my journey. I need to go to the bathroom. In the back of the pub there are three toilets whose signage I do not understand. I eventually work out that there are one female, one male and one tranny. I go for a piss and while I am at the urinal one of the pub staff comes in. I say that the loos need a clean. He is offended and rude to me.

I  know that I left the last place early. I go back to my car. I check the day sack in the boot. In the back pocket I find my caduceus and the keys to my old house in New Mills #30.  Even though I no longer own the house I still have keys to it and can go back to unlock it at any time. I know that together with yesterday’s dream there is a reminder that things are not always  as they seem. I note the jewel of awareness and that this could be the card in play.

The dream ends.

As I am typing this the Ian Dury song “Clever Trevor” springs to mind. And I think here we go again…