There was heaps of, big giants poops. One of them was hung on the washing line. I looked in the toilet and one of them had a note, something about it being my remains of Christmas, all offical like. I think it was a rich house, rich but messy. It's probably a good thing dreaming about shit. Showing things are being purged (and then hung on a washing line?) its maybe to do with poems.
I sent an email that said I fancied her and I'm not so sure, well how could predict that? Im meeting her on saturday though, and getting the bus home early. Day dreams and memories at the moment make sex seem preposterous again.
The work is good though.