I had a horrible dream last night.
I was at a wine and chocolate party, it was October the 23rd, and I was having a grand time. The wines we flowing, the chocolates being eaten and who should arrive but M Marine. He held out to me a pot of caviar and said “Who’s this then?”
I gestured to the man on my right and said “He’s my IT guy.”
“Not that guy,” he replied. “That guy.”
I gestured to the man on my left and said “He’s my old IT guy.”
He gestured, then, to the man speaking with my mother, asking who he was.
“That’s M Bassoon.”
“Sandwich guy, coffee guy, guy with the dog, guy from the market…”
“And that one?” he asked, pointing again.
“That one? Well that one I don’t really… I’m not exactly sure. Hang on.” I wandered over to this last guy, still holding the pot of caviar, and, after figuring out who he was, had to do all the introductions over again. I had to do introductions like that repeatedly all night long.
I know there’s a lesson in this, but frankly I’m just not that worried about it.