Last night I dreamed I was a passenger in a minibus. I was accompanied by several old friends from years ago and by Quakers. For reasons never explicit, everybody in the minibus thoroughly disapproved of me. My sense of this was vivid and distressing, and I was very glad to wake from it.
I told Pansy Cradledew I had had a bad dream. “I was the subject of disapproval,” I said. She laughed. “When people say they have bad dreams you expect them to say ‘I was terrified’ or something similar. But no, you were merely subject to disapproval.” She found this highly amusing.
Later I was able to reflect that things could be much worse. I learned that Auberon Waugh’s maternal grandfather was told by a foolish friend that a guaranteed cure for blindness was to have all of one’s teeth removed. He arranged for this to be done, contracted blood poisoning as a result, and died at the age of 43.