Anyway... after the sludge, I put on a performance for all the guests, in the hope it would impress ex-hairdressers brother. Said performance was an unplugged version of Pat Benatar's "hit me with your best shot" (odd fact #3 - odd because I. Don't. Sing.) with special thrusting and vigorous gestures for the apple of my eye. Yes, that's right, I was willing ex-hairdressers brother to hit me with his [metaphorical] best shot of love! And he did. And my, it was lovely.
Aside from all the weird bits, when I awoke from this dream all I wanted to do was go back to sleep and dream some more. Because it reminded me that I want someone to love me, I want to be the object of someones desires, and I would like to have sex again before my insides shrivel and wither to dust.