I've just got back from a week's holiday in Nerja with my friend Jayne who has an apartment there. It was relaxing. We slept ate, slept read and slept again. I thought the bright sunshine would make me feel better which it did, but on returning my spirits began to tumble.
Dan welcomed me with a bunch of roses and carnations, claret red, bought for Valentine's day and two beautiful salmon pink M & S tops. He's such a darling.
I had the most awful dream last night: I was on holiday with a friend - I was holding up a shop with a shotgun - I was in court for shoplifting - I was sitting before a row of Magistrates - they sentenced me to life - I was on a podium pleading with President Bush for my release. All through the dream I was crying. Sobbing my heart out. Because I take anti-depressants I am unable to cry normally. I don't know why. They must dampen down my emotions. The only time I shed tears now is in my dreams.
Copyright © 2007 Barbara Attwood
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