Last night’s dream was mostly ‘normal’. We went to Pizza Express in the South Bank centre. There is one there but this was a dream version that had tables it served on higher level that were generally less busy. We only had two slices of cake but the downstairs was pretty busy so I said I’d go upstairs to see if I could find a table up there and would ring down if I did. For some reason I also took the cake.
On the way upstairs I spotted a guy with glasses on his own at a table and our eyes briefly met. As I continued my journey I realised the guy in question was Arnie. Anyway, the journey was too long: up an escalator and round, and all the time I couldn’t see much in the way of quiet spaces. I also realised I kept not thinking about the plates I was holding and bits of cake were falling on the floor and on to my t-shirt (my yellow ‘Procrastinators…’ one, if you must know) making me realise it would have grease stains.
Eventually I went back downstairs admitting defeat and very sad that I’d lost about half the cake in the process (and taken about 20 minutes running around or something). Yeah, suck on that DiCaprio!