Dreamed of the Ex

Huh. Very vivid dream, going along the Charing X branch of the Northern Line, fancying a trip to the Tokyo Diner (Haven't found a decent soba soup in Edinburgh yet) I needed Charing X station or Leicester Square, but for some reason Kennington was in my head...probably because I lived there when I was going out with him. Got off the station with R and some girl in a straw boater, bumped into A, left the others because I knew I could join them later, and because his face was serious, almost unhappy. So we sat and had a coffee and I tried to make delicate enquiries. He wouldn't quite tell me. I got some stuff about general family that I couldn't make out, but nothing about himself, his partner and child. And yet still, his face was so serious as to make me consider contacting him this morning in case something has gone terribly wrong, but there's no way to do that without sounding like a fruitcake. Besides, there's inevitably an issue with contacting any ex, especially if things have gone awry in their life. There's always the possibility that they might read one's concern as a different motive. It's best if I do nothing. Sometimes, often, usually, a dream is just a dream.

Great little party Saturday night, met friends again yesterday, but generally so tired out by everything I crashed at 8.30. Now the week begins again with two unpleasant things to be done, two and any more than two I defer til, er, whenever I can't avoid them.