I was working with an ex, Robby, and having to go out and buy him a pie for lunch. I was trying to figure out how to clock out -- it was a strange old employee clock, rather like a cross between an old-fashioned bank calendar and an old-style railway station announcement system. Eventually I gave up on clocking out and went outside to join a queue of people because I didn't know the way to the main road, where the shops were. The people were behaving like cars, moving two-abreast and not moving if the lights at the top of the hill were red. Then a guy from school was beside me, too tall and wearing a woollen vest. "What are you going to buy?" he asked. I didn't want to tell him. His manner reminded me too much of b/f, who must question my every purchase.
Somewhere else in the same dream I was looking at an old scrapbook I'd apparently made of ads and articles from a heavy metal magazine. I was trying to remember when I might have made it.
