You know you have been working too hard when you have a dream that you met E.P. Sanders in the car park of the supermarket Tescos and he was carrying a six pack of Fosters Beer. I had this dream the other night and it is disturbing on so many levels. Sanders was in my mind for a variety of reasons. I'd been finishing a book on Paul, I'd just sent off a review article of VanLandingham's book on Paul, and a North American friend had tried (unsuccesfully) to recruit Sanders for a big NT project that we are starting soon. Tonight, I will be reading the Gospel of John before I go to bed and hope that nothing or no-one that has anything to do with Pauline studies disturbs my sleep. Freud could have a field day with this one. But I am glad to say that no pencils or bananas were in the dream either.
3 comments:
oh boy.
The disturbing thing about this dream isn't Sanders -- it's the Fosters! (A dream about Crown Lager would be fine, but Fosters...?)
And beer in a CAN? Beer, when it cannot come straight from the tap of a keg, must come from a BOTTLE.
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