The Sarah Jane Adventures captured my attention for a time last night. I was surprised by quite how good the pilot was. Fun. Failed to get rained on at all on the way home. My shiny metal plectrums arrived along with garish plectrum holders to be stuck on the side of guitars. And a camera remote control that doesn’t work. Oh well. Another excuse to get the 30D battery grip I suppose. Didn’t do much else other than cook a huge plate of chips and 3 fish fingers. I’ll get fat! Early to bed. Text from Danny after I was asleep asking if I could phone him. Heh. Slept fitfully. Dreamt of strange things. I was young. I was in a commercial kitchen, sat on the floor with a nameless friend. We’d put his little brother into a plastic bag. We were near the waste disposal unit, playing with it. It’d make churning noises for a while then flush. I thought it’d be funny to put his little brother in it, so we did. I pushed the button, then pushed it again, expecting it to stop, but it didn’t. It made churning noises. I looked under it and found the master off switch. I turned it off. I was thankful that it hadn’t flushed already, so we could still get my little friend’s brother out. It was silent. My friend opended the lid and we could see the blood on the slide going into the inside. I woke up. Strange. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Stress is a wonderful thing for making your mind creative. All that just to tell me I’m hurting someone, even though I don’t mean to — but I know it’s wrong.