I didn't get much sleep last night, so although I don't like dozing off in the afternoon I ended up doing it anyway. I dreamed that I was going to see a small-scale theatre production of Macbeth. I'd seen the same production a year or so before but was going again because it had been recast with my mum as Lady Macbeth. (In real life she holds no theatrical ambitions; except the usual lady-of-a-certain-age ambition of never missing any show involving Simon Russell Beale and/or BARROWMAN.) The production was a domestic take set in a living room, and in keeping with that Lady Macbeth was meant to welcome the audience and take them to their seats. I remembered this from the last time I'd seen it and played along, but when my sister arrived some time later she hugged my mum, who broke character. How unprofessional. I didn't get to see the actual show as the dream skipped straight to the interval, where as usual I needed a pee. There were queues outside both the men's and women's toilets and when I finally got in there were a load of winding corridors and doors on the way to the loos. I took a wrong turn and ended up in the women's loos, turned back and was at the back of the queue again. When I got back in I took a different wrong turn and kept finding myself behind more doors, occasionally bumping into other lost people, increasingly needing a pee. It's not like I was even particularly desperate for one when I woke up or anything.