More dreams

Now that the festival is over I feel freer - but somewhat at a loss what to do.  Our last visitors left this morning - Alex and Martin, his father.  Mark is away - and I find myself completely "free".   The other thing that has happened since the festival finished is this mass of dreams, last night I had a very odd one about working in a government office and wanting to visit an archive on the 6th floor - but I couldn't get there - I tried a staircase, but it only went up one floor, there was another staircase that was blocked - and finally I got permission to go up in the lift, I needed a special key, it was a tiny, narrow lift only big enough for one person, and it was on the outside of the building, but rather unnerving, as the doors didn't quite fit properly, and it felt unsafe.  But I attained the archive, left it, and went down in the lift again.  The whole atmosphere of the dream was one where I was endlessly being prevented from doing what I needed to do, achieving my ends.

The previous night I had an elaborate dream about James my first husband, the details of which are now lost, but the significant thing is that he was living in a palace with incredibly high ceilings.  His wife Jo had left him, and we were discussing whether we wanted to resume our relationship, and decided we didn't.

It feels at the moment as though my unconscious has been liberated after a few months of having to subjugate everything to work.   Strange - as if one's unconscious knows there's no point in sending messages when one is not in the position to hear them. 

This is another calm before the storm phase - need to get going soon with the next festival (groan) and so on. I must try to do something about the business.  What is going to happen now?  I really need to concentrate on finding some business somehow - but I am not feeling totally sanguine about this.   In a way, I should, since AA has just been asked to do another property-development related quote.  These are a bit of a sign of green shoots - and if there are green shoots in property development, then green shoots in marketing etc. cannot be far behind.  

Alternatively, I should just concentrate on writing 3,000 words a week between now and Christmas.  That wouldn't be enough to finish the book - but it would go a very long way towards it. 

Interestingly Martin has been writing a book, but his is very unfinished, and he has decided to go down the self-publishing e-book mode.  I have confidence that either TFY or Conscience will get taken up... I want to see hard covers - or better, a paperback... I never want to self-publish, (is this going to be famous last words?) I just don't like the idea, and they are both as good as much that is in print, and better.   Martin's approach to these matters is very different to mine. 

Yesterday, to change the subject, Ned got very angry with me (something to do with his education) and posted this on Facebook:

"Divorce Dad, and move out, you horrible bitch. Otherwise, I will make your life pure hell until I leave. You will be thrown out before I will."

It made me laugh - and when I went to have a look on FB I found he had removed it.  He was a bit shamefaced about it later.  Why did it make me laugh?  Partly because I have no grounds for divorce, and also because I know that N & F (especially F) dread the idea of us divorcing.  Actually, it was a product of shock mostly. 

I do feel rather melancholy now - now that everything is over.   I have longed for this period of respite, but despite the fact that it is hot (!) and sunny outside, I am not feeling terribly satisfied.   I suppose the lack of pressure means that once again I am left to turn over my inner life and regard its (and my) inadequacies. 

Usually there is one little thing I long for - I feel nostalgic and dying to do something, just something simple like going out for a drink or supper with Mark - but I don't have any desire to do anything at present, except perhaps look at my horoscope for September.    Perhaps that's actually a good thing, perhaps it signifies that there's nothing terribly wrong with my life.  But all these dreams the last few nights about frustration, obstruction and rejection of one sort and another tell me something to the contrary.    Wonder what I'll dream tonight?