screen shot of Some kind of The Guardian article, not linkable by usual web techniques
The night before I read the above, I too had a GCHQ dream. Being an unusual early night dream it was not based on the usual content of my early morning dreams (that typically involve dream-land hints about the need to actually get up and pee). Since I don’t recall having many early night dreams, lets blame the soma drug I took – trying to avoid the evil vicodin. Apparently, soma interferes with how the brain stem passes pain signals to the brain. Apparently, it also induces GCHQ nightmares.
So I might have hoped that my little nightmare might have featured a GCHQ fantasy mistress, like others play out in their porn fantasy land. But it was not to be. Rather, it was set in Texas – in the US branch of GCHQ. Sadly, nothing in my dream-land’s character found anything innocuous at that as I went for an interview. This is the second dream on that recruitment theme Ive had (and I think I got dreary dream-land rejection letters in both cases – which should be telling me I may need another life mission. I may just not be set up for a career of snoop and snitch.) Nothing in the dream interview style hinted that I might be suitable to be a GCHQ-related fantasy-abusing creep either.
I only remember a few dream fragments, as an early morning dream mixed things up in the memory banks. I do recall the scene – which was an open plan cafeteria type working culture, where some military type, in a relaxed mixed military/civilian environment, gave me an interview. The questions were all “trick” psychology stuff – to feel out if Id have the “right stuff” – for a life of snoop and snitch, I assume. Perhaps I missed a cue or two, since the *American* GCHQ guy MIGHT have been testing for my fantasy-abusing nature, perhaps to be placed in a james bond situation where my femme-fatale-in-drag act might ensnare the evil guy with the white cat. If so, I missed the cues, sadly.
All I remember is that the process ended and I was waiting for the result – which had not arrived. I was starting to think I might not have the “Right stuff” and at which point I woke up, at 2am – and, guess what! went straight to pee.
On the way back, I checked – in the dark – that the dog was in his spot, and had not gone off and make hay somewhere while coming back from his own nightly peeing trip. That seems to involve also checking out the hangouts of the night-prowling feril grey cats – whose annoyance appears to be the focus of his life mission.