Through The Door In My Room (night of 31/08/2019)

I stand at the back window of the middle-room looking out into the garden. A plume of smoke is rising either from the windowsill, or from a vent on the ground just below. Where is it coming form? I decide it must be coming from the cellar - I head down to the cellar, and discover, much to my alarm, that it is full of smoke. I try to look to see whereabouts in the cellar, but I am blinded by smoke - no wonder so many people die in a fire I think - and head back up the stairs before I lapse into unconsciousness.
***
I am in a bedroom - my room - the house itself - bears no resemblance to anywhere I have lived in waking life. Someone else is with me - possibly Emily. My room is made of brick, and there is a light, airy feel about it - though the room - the house itself, feels old - possibly Victorian. There is a door in my room - a door with windows - in fact the wall around the door seems full of windows, and there is a gap between the door and the door frame. I do not seem to have noticed this properly before. I see on the other side of the door a large room with many potted plants. It has the feel of a disused greenhouse or attic. I wonder how I can get to it. Then I realise that there is no lock on the door, all I have to do is move the chair that is in the way.
I walk out into the room, marvelling at how large this room is - the things I can do here! I call for Emily to come and see, I then realise I am out in the garden - I look behind me and see the windows of next door. It is the garden and not at the same time - hard to explain. Not the garden that could be accessed without going through the door in my room. I look at a stretch of grass that runs up a slope under some kind of covering - at least this part will be private and secret to me.
I walk up another slope of grass - I can see the fence surrounding the garden - the open gate - realise that anyone from outside could walk in - and into my room - there was no lock on the door of my room after all. I am somewhat dismayed at this thought. My dog is running about - again a dog that bears no resemblance to any waking life dog I have had. I notice other dogs have appeared. My dog and the other dog are running about enjoying themselves. With mild surprise I next realise that there are more dogs appearing in a sudden flash of light - as if they are teleporting in from somewhere. the dogs all seem happy and are content to run about in the garden in a chaotic form of play.

New Job In A Fried Chicken Shop (night of 15/08/2019_

I have a new job. I seem to be working in some kind of chicken shop. I am unsure what my duties are, but I am fairly sure I am not behind the counter. A new person has also started - his eyebrow is a single circle. He is messy and dirty - his jumper is covered in disgusting bits of food. He serves customers. I stand in front of the counter. Vague memories of having to fetch something - or clear something away. A middle aged woman comes in - called Steph? - I am told that I will learn far more if I follow her. Here we go, I think about my cosy old job at GTech, where I was comfortable and didn't have to think about learning anything new. She moves quickly and we walk into a corridor passing other people - then up the stairs. Somehow I lose her. I look out for her orange top to no avail. I walk upstairs and into what is the call-cantre - this is a call centre for a delivery company - somehow connected to the fried chicken shop. Lots of people behind phones asking how they can help. People smile at me. I smile back at them, unsure if they are smiling at me or co-workers, A lotr of them are wearing band T-shirts. I am hot and anxious.

Monty Python Hooligans (night of 03/08/2019)

A video being shown - perhaps on a news programme - of a group of lads travelling down an escalator. Loud and aggressive chanting, Are they going to see a football game?
An interior of a pub - this feels like Brighton - an upstairs and downstairs. I have to leave. Daylight. It transpires that the loud and aggressive men - obviously violent - are some kind of Monty Python hooligans and will be going to see the stage show.
A series of art studios set in a courtyard - moss growing on walls. Am I thinking of hiring one out? Do I already have one?
I realise I have left my sketchbook behind - in the pub where the Monty Python hooligans have gathered to watch the stage show. Fear and uncertainty. Perhaps they will be destroying my sketchbook. I must negotiate with them to get it back. Perhaps they have not found it.