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So – Praxis, god damn his withered soul, has infected me with the memespack:

“List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your blog along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they’re listening to.“

It’s been going around.

So, I have consulted the oracle (I remember at NotCon four years ago, listening to Richard Jones explaining Audioscrobbler. “Ha,” I mocked, completely missing the point, “so it notes down what you listen to, and after a while, it’s able to tell you what music you like. What’s the point of that?” Quite a lot of point, it turns out.) and had a think, and here’s my seven:
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The other night I had a dream about the property market. This was distressing enough: if I’d ever thought about dividing the human race into two groups, one of which has dreams about the property market and the other of which doesn’t (which I never have thought about), I’m pretty sure that I’d have put myself solidly in the middle of the non-property-market dreaming group. So finding myself actually having a dream about the property market was confusing, to say the least.

In the dream, I was attempting, with at least one other person – it’s unclear who, or how many – to buy a house. This was proving difficult, the property market being both overpriced and dangerously volatile right now. However, we were very pleased with ourselves, because we thought we’d found a solution. You see, in the dream, Asus had just released a very small, stripped-down budget range of houses. Eee houses. But the majority of the dream was taken up with a highly repetitive series of frustrations, as every vendor we tried had sold out of the houses due to stocking problems.

I awoke from the dream with an insatiable desire to live in a tiny cuboid house that measured about 12 feet by 16 feet, was pearly white in colour, and ran on open source principles but required several days of tweaking to get the plumbing working properly. Not that my flat’s actually hugely different to that description, but there was something about the dream-house that nagged, and wouldn’t let go.

I am not mad.