HEADLINE: Dreams Suck Ass
Right you know dreams...like how they are always only relevant and interesting to you and usually the only person you can get to listen to you explaining them is your nearest and dearest; even then it is only cause they feel they have to. Which is all well and good cause they should listen, but no-one else should get caught in the crossfire.
Well so last night I had this recurring dream that I had 3 spare bits of elwire to hook up to my costume and I knew they had to go SOMEWHERE but couldn't find where. It didn't matter how logically I apporached the situation I was always foiled and left with the nagging feeling I was missing the obvious. In the end I got so pissed off I woke up myself up, bugger that for a game of soliders. Except that I then woke up and had to go over all the specs in my head, then see if I could add an extra 3 strands on and where would I put it and by that time I might as bloody well just get up.
Decompression costume anxiety has me thoroughly in its grip, the scale of my project I feel is the problem. Never before have I tackled something so ambitious, it is designed so I can mix and match with other accessories through the evening. Never before has the timescale been so tight, I dont have several critical components and I still have to wire all three elements of the costume. Plus I am now discovering that my electronic skills may not be up to the task. Dont evenm get me started about how I am going to get the costume to decompression either.......aaaaaaggghhhhh.
Hence the invasion of stress into my usually serene space, this is unusual for me. Remedy: Even later nights and more alcohol, try dreaming through a half bottle of Glen Morangie and 4 hours kip a night ya bastard.