I have a hip injury which nibbles at my walking and does not let me carry handbags that are bigger than clutches. I have tried everything from painkillers to rest. I have put the memory foam mattress on and off without much change. I still think it is either psycho-somatic (Neil’s bet) or a problem with alignment (my haunch). As a desperate measure, I bought a new pillow, a squarish uncomfortable looking, orthopedic thing that works best if one sleeps on one’s back – which I am not keen on, but perhaps should, for the sake or straight walking. It must have reminded me of my psychoanalyst’s couch for, the first night I slept on it I had the following dream:
I was walking in a street in the centre of Bilbao (although it could have been Madrid) when I noticed, inside a shop, that my analyst was giggling. The shop was a kind of psychology enterprise but looked suspiciously like a clothes repair shop, with a counter up front and people working behind it. In the dream, I am shocked at the discovery and can’t believe my eyes. I walk back and front in front of the shop, trying for the analyst not to see me but wanting to know more about the scene. He does not see me. Meanwhile, in the street, there is a fight going on outside a car. It is a very violent fight, involving a man and a woman. By far, the woman is the most aggressive.