I dreamt that my father, now sometime dead, wanted to take us all, the whole family, including my mother (who is also a long time dead) from whom he’d divorced long ago, on a holiday. The whole caboodle and for a month. Unheard of, but he was delighted at his largesse. One of my sisters who I saw at the hairdressers was planning to have all her teeth re-arranged (or was it taken out and put back in again?) before the arrival of her next child. I see where the notions come from and even if rather implausible it warmed me.
He insists that I stop having my detox day. You lose a whole day, he says, meaning I feel like shit with headaches and such. And my mood sinks. Who would’ve thought a pot of tea a day could do so much? Heigh ho. Back to it. And my last interview today.