I am convinced that I am actually living in a dream and that I'm not really here.
Buttons keep coming off things, for a start. I'm not kidding. At least eight buttons have come off my clothes in the last four days. I think I've had that many buttons come off my clothing in my entire adult life previously. I must be dreaming. It must mean something subconscious, like when I dream about all my teeth falling out. I wonder what buttons falling off means. I'll have to look that up when I awaken.
Also, I am being stalked by Bryan Ferry. Not literally -- but this is a dream, after all. I saw his name in a magazine, and discovered that Matt doesn't know of him (another clue that I'm dreaming - how can Matt not know who Bryan Ferry is?). Suddenly, he was everywhere. I saw him four more times in the same magazine. And walking into a bookshop a little while later, I discovered no less than three of his albums amongst the secondhand LPs during my extremely brief and cursory examination of the shop's wares before I stopped looking in alarm.
Aforementioned magazine was the most recent issue of UK Tattler, which also proved that I have no current connection to reality by containing stories about £115,000 bottles of perfume and face masks made of beluga caviar.
The light switches work. This is a very advanced dream.