Nightmare

Ugh, a narrow corridor or side path around a house, red brick, but it was also in the house. Creeping into view in the dark, the intruder. I screamed at him; GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET OUT! My voice hoarse but loud...

Loud enough to wake R, who comforted me.

Ugh.

What am I afraid of? The virus? Not really. I can't control it, and am not scared as yet, perhaps because I lack the sense to be scared. I just don't feel these things in time, save only once by luck. My dreams though, sometimes take the place of the commonsense I lack, which is why I try to record them. I am not worried about catching COVID-19. I don't want the people I love to catch it, but that's the extent of my dread. R, being more rational, perhaps worries more about the disease itself, about the economic ramifications. This could be a lot worse than the banker's crash in 2008. I don't think he's fretting, just aware. These things don't impinge on my consciousness yet, too many unknowns.

Still, the intruder.

Admittedly watching a combination of Midsommar and Pennyworth may not have helped. I enjoyed these though; Midsommar is excellent though its structure is slower and different to the kind of films familiar to me. It wasn't climactic but interesting. I would be surprised if it contributed to the horrible dream. And Pennyworth is, of course, enjoyable hokum, bits of cringy writing here and there but hey, that's some Londonscape. The Mandalorian is great fun. Why are all the Star Wars spinoffs better than the films?* Westerns in Space! It's what we need!


*Excepting Han Solo... What the hell was that?