I dreamed of scorpions. They were small bright red ones, crawling on the wood floor of the flat after our furniture had been moved out... I was using the normal spider method of putting glass tumblers over them in preparation to throw them out of the window, and they made the most terrible screaming noise when they were trapped. There was a large blue beetle as well, and when I showed it to someone he said it was the first time that he preferred the ones in the Southern Hemisphere.

As if that wasn't a nasty enough thought, Whitney and I have just been talking about whether our hypothetical children are going to grow up sounding like me or like everybody else around them - horrifically, they're going to grow up in Boston with both British and American influences, which means that our children are going to sound like Loyd Grossman.