Naked, I tidied up my London flat. I moved slices of white bread from the first floor sitting room windowsill to the kitchen where they belonged.
When I returned downstairs a fat woman brandishing a gun confronted me in the hall. I feared for my life. However, she said that she was there to protect me. Her assistant followed dragging a rail of dressing gowns. The woman explained that I was putting myself at risk wandering around undressed with the curtains open and that I should take something to cover me up from the rail.
After she left I walked over to the conference venue. I intended to call in to find out what time the event started then return to my flat to change into my pink suit. However it looked like there wouldn’t be time to do this so I took my seat and listened to JS as she introduced the first session. I sat next to a long slim woman whose face was clagged with foundation, and tummy sparkled with metallic grey make-up.
Meanwhile I worried about my own paper. Although I had the full text typed out in front of me, it was months since I had engaged in this work. I should have made some slides to force myself to revisit the stats, and so that I would have some visual aids to engage my audience. I wondered if there would be time to pop back to my room and put a deck together, but nobody had a copy of the conference programme to check the timings.
The rest of the delegates all seemed pretty unhappy. They booed JS until she stepped down to set up her presentation at the other end of the room. This meant that we all had to change our seating. I attempted to position myself next to the breakfast bar, but abandoned this plan because (a) the man already sitting there stank and (b) I was in the way of other delegates.
When I eventually found a spot to sit I noticed that my mobile phone had changed shape from a long oblong to a small folder-over device. Those around me admired my ‘new’ phone as the latest (very expensive) Apple model. However, I wanted my own phone back. It was eventually traced to a man who claimed that I had agreed an exchange with him. I immediately persuaded him to swap everything back.
By complete coincidence medical librarian GR appeared while I was negotiating with the phone swapper. GR looked in good health except that he was wearing a permanent solid plastic neck brace. He was a Doctor Who fan so I concluded that this was likely an accessory rather than a medical device.