Dream Diary 11

I dreamt I was a teacher. I was teaching a class full of 2nd years in a junior school. It was the first day of term. The school and classroom were very old and rundown. There was a blackboard on a wobbly stand. I had no lesson plan and no idea what I was supposed to be teaching. Also in the school were Mr Peel (from Sandwich Junior School[1]) and Mrs Elliott (from Manwoods). The only bright part was that I could remember all the kids names first time (although now I can only remember Mark and Steven in the first row). The worst part was that just after I handed out the textbooks for Maths, they turned into much more advanced mathsbooks. Mathsbooks from actuarial exam revision nightmares. Also, my suit was too tight.

Fairly obviously, this was someone elses nightmare. I wasn't supposed to have this. The only likely candidate for causing this kind of chaos is some Cidre Fermier[2] from the enchanted forest of Broceliande[3] in Brittany, which, if we believe the label, was made by a wizard in a giant teacup. That's the cider in the giant teacup, not the wizard. Probably easier just to show you the label.

[1] Since Mr Peel was captured by the Japanese during the war, he has almost certainly stopped teaching by now.

[2] Farm Cider, or Scrumpy.

[3] No, really.