Part 3

I dreamed about the race because we did an amazing race thing at staff retreat. My team came in second (it was so funny!) Mr G because one of our speakers was the coach of a state champ basketball team.

I did win the Office Clown award (who, me? Lol) so maybe that was the win.

I remember saying I was glad clod was on my team because she's so smart. :)

I don't know why the family thing. Just how weird dreams get I guess.

Woah. Weird dream.

Yet I feel compelled to point out, you got the winning answer. So put away those hook knives, chica. You're the one who got me $333,333.33!

This morning, between birdsong (when Diz wakes me up) and my alarm going off, I dreamed about Big Sarge. As usual with morning dreams I can pinpoint many elements and work out where they came from in my waking life.

I was at school, but I was also in an office. We were doing Art, but somehow I was a pupil rather than a TA, even though I was a fully grown woman (as you would be, working in an office!)

I was working on an advert for Chiltern Railways (our local rail company). It involved a man in a clown suit sleeping overnight in a railway station, just so he didn't miss his appointment in London the next day. Except it later changed to him getting a ridiculously early train and then falling asleep on it because the seats were so comfortable, and shuttling back & forth and missinh his interview anyway. It was all about how people perceive trains as unreliable but in fact they're so good you will miss your interview anyway (!)

Sarge called me on my office phone/ my mobile.
It was a video phone/ Skype.
He was cooking. Now I knew Sarge always cooked in high heels. Not a gender/ trans*/ cross-dressing thing, he just liked the added height and tilt when cooking. But because he was in the corner of the room where everyone could see, I felt a little awkward. I'd always seen it as it was - a quirk, his decision. But other people might judge. Especially if the children in the class mentioned it to their parents.

But the good thing was he was really there.
He asked me for a kiss goodbye.
I felt unsure; taking a personal call in Art class is one thing, letting someone wander into the office when you are working and then having a snog is another. But as it turned out it was a chaste married-style peck on the lips. Afterwards I felt bad - I mean he lives in another country, surely I could have gone for it - would I ever get the chance to see him again?

Of course you would when you visited him to get your shoes back!

I got locked out of the house today.
No, that's the real bit. Locked out for 5 hours - very cross. 99% my own fault, which made me crosser.
I had no intention of sleeping, but being in the sun - wrapped up due to my poor old skin - in the warm and with nothing whatsoever to do, I dozed off.

Wolf was in my dream.

Everything felt like it was going wrong. I was distressed.
"That's normal," sez Wolf, "I've worked in this profession long enough to recognise the signs. This is a phase and you'll come through it." I woke up SO HAPPY and comforted.

Mum and Dad turned up immediately after - I think it was probably them coming down the front path (I was in the back garden) that woke me up.

Thanks, Wolf.
And you have a good English accent when you so choose.

Seems to be the season for Cellar Dreamin'.
I spose it's a bit Tom Jones given that I spoke to two Dwellars yesterday and fell asleep halfway through mentally composing a post - you didn't miss anything, it was a grumpy one I've since thought better of.

Anyway. I had a wonderful story I was planning (this comes partly from a collection of stories put together by Neil Gaimen that I am halfway through.) Only Diz jumped on my head and woke me up and I could only remember the title. I was sleeping downstairs on one of the 'rents lovely new leather recliner sofas.

The title was The Girl Who Learned to Purr.
Bruce said it sounded like the title of an autobiography. Which I liked! So I started mentally writing my autobiography. Only to wake in my own bed (for real this time) because... Diz jumped on my head. Funny how even dreams within dreams feature that event. I actually wrote the title down, because in the dream it was so wonderful. It doesn't really translate into the waking world.

Anyway, I set up the bed in the spare room (Mum was actually sleeping dowstairs - she has some really grim sickness bug again - this one featuring vomiting as an added extra). And when I slept I dreamed I was in America. The people I visited kept sorta changing their identity. I offended Grav by thinking he was Buster (yup, easy to work that one out!) I was staying at a Dwellar's house out in the suburbs and just loafing around in my baggy joggers and a t-shirt. I felt a bit weird about it; I'd come all this way and I might as well be at home.

But I was paying for my keep by baby-sitting. No surprise, the kids were the same age as the kids I used to work with. In the dream I knew who they were, but I'm not sure they were really based on anyone's children. Oh! Just thought! One of them was Max! I was making him laugh by attempting an American accent. Yes, he was a Merkin in this dream.

We went to a department store - me still horribly dressed down and needing a good wash. And went into a HUGE lift. It was so large it had it's only little booth/ shop-thing. Like they have on station platforms. It sold hotdogs, nachoes, popcorn and various "American" food which is nothing like real American food. We were going there to meet Claudette.

I was with Susan. Who was a Dwellar I'd known for a long time. But I couldn't remember her username. I thought it might be Griff.

I woke up natrally from this dream, as Diz is not allowed in the spare room without supervision. And I had to deal with Claudette being dead all over again.

I don't remember hardly any of it...but last night i dreamt I went to Manderlay again...wait, no, that wasn't it.

I was with a bunch of Dwellars, don't even know who, and in walks Merc.

You can write your own story from there, because that's all I remember!

And griff as Susan. *snickers*

My manhood is being besmirched!

There's a lotion for that.

Last night i had a dream that I went to visit sundae and her family. Her Mum and Dad were there, and so was Sundae of course. Sundae and her Mum were fighting the whole time I was with them, and so when they all went off in a huff, I decided to go to the pub. That's where I met Fred (can't remember how to spell his user name when I'm not looking at it). I only took $50 with me, and he spent most of it on one bottle of wine! I was not happy. Then I woke up.

Glad to be a walk-on in someone else's dream :)

Infi was in mine in the early hours of this morning.
We were being really spiteful to eachother.
We worked in the same office and I loved my job and she hated hers (I have actually been in that situation IRL, but of course not with Infi.)

We were basically trading the same insults back & forth the whole time.
Infi was moaning (and I mean it was really bloody boring) about the hiring freeze. "Soon, Paul will be the only IT tech between here and South Africa!"
"Oh well done," I said, "great line. Sad I've already heard you use it so many times..."

There were various spats in a similar vein, but when she said, "And where did all your money actually go? Really. I'm the only one who dares to ask you that..."
And to deflect her I hit back even harder - verbally. Because I knew it was all on shady things.

Oh, Shawnee you were English. And looked like Pooka.
And on waking properly I remembered there'd been a spite-fest between two girls on Big Brother, which I watched before going to bed. So I can assure you, you were probably just guest-starring because you had issues with work recently.

It was Shawnee123, btw, if this was the thread I'm thinking.

Dreamed about Bruce last night.
Probably mixing up the Cellar with Zombieland, both of which featured in my evening.

There was a big group of us holed up at Bruce's. Which was underground, but still nice.
He brought out his "special" tobacco. He only ever rolled it in green papers, so that the grandchildren knew not to steal the butts. Made sense at the time.
I was both living it and reading it. I found myself lying in bed sucking on a green tube and realising I couldn't get high from an unlit smoke, and anyway it was via the Internet so it might not work. And yes, this was part of the dream...

And then I was back in Bruce's world and he had a clock with people from the Cellar on it. Like in Harry Potter, but better (I always thought the film interpretation was too literal)
I was hurt not to be on there, but I scrolled back I the thread and there I was.
It was about 04.50, which I realised was the time I had my alarm set for. Whigh made total sense. LJ didn't get up until gone 11.00 apparently, but I couldn't work out the time difference.

I had a dream that Jim was my bf. God knows how that happened. Maybe it was because i had been thinking about you all and thinking its high time i came and caught up on things.

I had a dream about you guys, yes, you guys as in y'all, as in lots of the Cellar people in it. I totally wanted to post about it, but, umm....uh....nopes, couldn't come up with a good excuse other than the truth that I was too lazy to look for this thread to post in. Anyways, I forgot the details by now but the gist of it is that we were all coming to visit Alianthia. YES! A bunch of us, me included, were there to visit Ali except she was away and took her sweet time to come home although she knew a all these wonderful Cellerites came to her home all the way in Aussie to visit her. :eyebrow: Hihi.....Anyways, just to name a few, I remember there was Dana, Limey, Sundae, Undertoad, Bruce (of course because I think of Bruce often ;) ), Jim, ummm......and that's all I could remember at the moment. I'm sure there was more. Anyways, my point is that we all came to Aussie to visit Aliantha. :D

No wonder I've been so tired! Jetlag.

I wish you all would! That would be awesome.

I was the stowaway in the wheelwells of the jet (like in The Fifth Element). No way would I be left behind on a Cellar visit to Ali.

Last night, monster came to me in a dream. lol. I know, right? Anyway, i had this house on a big block of land and she wanted to go for a run, so i took her to the verandah and showed her the perimeter. We agreed it was about a 3 km run. Also, there was something in there to do with max that i was nervous about but cant remember that part now.

I dreamed of Undertoad. He was talking/ posting about Sam Allardyce being one of his heroes. Because Allardyce is the Manager of Sheffield Wednesday, where UT lived until he was a teenager, although I'd forgotten that up until that point.

Of course in real life Sam Allardyce is the (reasonably) long term Manager of West Ham, and UT did not live in England that long. I can't remember whether the Sheffield part is accurate, but given the rest of the misinformation I suspect not...

Sheffield yes, but strictly a United supporter while I was there. Solely because my best mate in the third form told me to support SUFC, but that's plenty reason when you're 14.

Wow, despite the rest of it being dream-nonsense I must have internalised that fact somewhere along the line.

Then again, that's the sort of scatter-gun "truth" that psychics rely on; lots of gibberish but you only remember the one thing they threw into the mix that was right :lol:

I told Monster to fuck off last night.
I held back, bit my tongue, didn't respond for a long time, but in the end I just lost it.

I was making a dish for the practical aspect of my GCSE Food & Nutrition exam. I thought I'd been quite innovative, but as I worked on it I slowly realised that really all it was was rashers of bacon pressed into a loaf tin. Monster knew this, she was delighting in pointing it out. Bitch. I was surprised to see she was quite a bit older than me; as old as 19 by my guess. I wasn't surprised by the fact she was tall and slim, and mixed race. I knew that she was acting all superior because... Well because she was, so she could.

I was trying to get ideas from Limey as to what I could serve with it, but she kept making meat-based suggestions. Not helpful, as Monster was gleefully pointing out.

Anyway, the reason I snapped was because she got in my way and I nearly dropped the whole thing on the floor.

Glad to be of assistance! :D


Sent by thought transference

Asparagus, Sundae. You can always serve asparagus with it, assuming it's in season.

That bit did for me. Choked on coffee.

Well you were obviously there because you offered help in real life.
I can only assume your help was meat-based because I've cooked meat for you and Mr Limey; it certainly didn't reflect the exceptionally practical and helpful offer you made IRL.
Sparrowgrass with bacon? Sounds... sexy.
I'm pleased.

Last night I met Dani in Southend (English seaside resort).
I worried at various points during the dream because it looked just like Great Yarmouth. Well of course it did, becauses my dreaming mind drew on years of memories of Gt Yarmouth as opposed to one holiday in Southend.

I arrived by train and Dani came by bike.
We went to look for the hotel - I had a letter confirming my booking but it didn't have a full address for it. We went back into the station and a man in uniform shouted at us for taking our discs off. He threatened us that we wouldn't be able to join the travel group if we didn't have them on. Now I knew we were not in an off-limits part of the station, and it was his mistake to identify us a recalcitrant part of a group, but I deliberately said nothing, because why should I?

I felt bad when I got outside though. Dani showed me where he'd poked her hands, and she had a sore on the back of each one. She said if she touched it I'd be able to see it bubbling under the skin. I had to look away.

Anyway, she had her Nana with her.
And I had Diz.

Bruce wandered up as Dana sank down on her haunches and started crying wearily.
He told her to pull herself together but she said she was so worried about her Nana, who was so old and had travelled such a long way and we (meaning me) didn't even know where we were going.

Bruce said that was part of both growing up and growing old and get used to it.

I phoned home, hoping to get Mum to do a google search on the hotel for me, as it seemed to have a G2 postcode [Glasgow] but got a recorded message from her friend Breda [deceased] about how they were preparing for a Noel Coward Appreciation Brunch and couldn't come to the phone.

Dream ended with us getting into a taxi the size of a little double decker bus; like the ones you get on roundabouts, but adult sized. He said the reason there was an E postcode - as it was now - was because it was closer to Eastbourne than Southend. He was heading North-East, but would take us to our hotel on the way back. Six adults (somehow) bags and a bike for £15 and £5 for the cat.

I know where the most important aspects of that dream come from.
Going to bed worried, dreaming stressful and waking up to worry isn't great though.
I spit on people who say dreams are a filter and help us deal with reality.

Well, not deliberately. I only ever spit by accident, and it's really embarrassing.

You know, in dreams you can have the cat ride the bike behind the bus and save yourself £5!

I dreamed I was PMing Glatt. But in the twisted way of dreams, the PMs were on little scraps of paper. Turns out his real name is Thomas Cock. He even wrote that he thought the Cellar obsession with cock began with him and it seemed possible to me.

He owned a shop. He called himself a Proprietor, which sounded decent and old fashioned.

As the dream progressed he'd sent me a goldfish in a bowl. Only he was worried that the bowl would be too small as the fish grew, so he sent me a tank. I wasn't sure where I was going to put it.

That is all.
Nice to know Glatt's real name though.

I love it! Both the idea of PMing with scraps of paper, and the cock meme etymology.

Of course it might have been Griff :D

I have a recently vacated aquarium out in the wood shed...

Talked to Dani the other night. I mean actually talked on the telephone IRL.
Keep up.

We spoke about dreams and the Cellar and all that. In a book it would seem preposterous coincidence, but it really happens in real life, because even when you try to dwell in a fantasy world real things happen. Like dreams.
So. Anyway.
The night we spoke, I dreamed about her.

I was moving into her place. It was actually quite grim and the room she was allocating me was very bare and inhospitable. The rent was at the top end of what I could afford, and she had two rules.

- No men
- No alcohol
- All bills to be shared, £ to be paid into a joint account and as she knew she was making her payments any defaults were my responsibility and anyway I would be out
- No meat. No meat or animal products full stop.
- And although she would not ask me to become Muslim, she would really appreciate that commitment.

Yes, I can count.
Not well, which we talked about in REAL real life on Sunday, when I admitted I can't properly learn songs with numbers in.
She knows this anyway. She'd rather I didn't remember any songs at all. Because I insist on singing them to her, which is terribly weary.

So in the dream I didn't get that it wasn't only two rules.
But I would have. No flies on me.

Of course the dream person is not Ms DC at all, anyway.
The tone, if not the content, came from Miss Mona's rules - you'll know them if you know your Dolly Parton.
And some came from me.

Still. at least she wasn't in the later, early morning dream, where a Negress was going down on me in a dystopian, futuristic, 1930's Better Amsterdam, which was supposed to be a London suburb but was a cross between Euston station and Terry Gilliam's Brazil. Shopping centre cum council estate.

ETA I know that the N word I've used is outdated and I do consider it offensive.
It was probably in my dream because of a novel I've just read, which was partly set in Nazi Germany. The novel/ novelist is not racist, but uses the vernacular of the time, moving on yo question and criticise those opinions.

I just heard that term, negress, in an episode of 'American Horror Story'.

Ya don't hear that one every day.

Dreamed I was at chez Limey.
Been there often enough to know what it really looks like, but we all know dreams are weirdorama.
It was my old cottage, just warmer and with more bedrooms.
And Carruthers had a huge attic apartment.

Oddly, I mean IRL and really oddly, I woke from a dream of a shared meal of cassoulet with an enormous craving for a kebab. 'bab shop closes at 02.00. Going to try to get back to the Limey dreams. Because no matter how my mind messes with architecture, the warm feeling of welcome was real.

I dreamed we all drew a dish (as in a meal idea) from a hat - literally as my sleeping mind still can't quite get the internet completely right.
They were traditional ones from our various countries.
The idea was we all researched our selection, found out the origins, how it was originally made and how it is eaten now.
I got corn bread.

Trouble is, I got bogged down in the details.
I spent all night going right back to the very origins of corn and was already deeply into it before I even got to the American part of the story.
It turns out the American Revolution started earlier than I had realised, 80AD to be precise. So I still had a loooong way to go before I got to the present day.

I think I woke up more tired than I went to sleep.

I dreamed that I was on a beach. There was deep snow on the beach, and spencer grabbed a snowmobile and rode it over to the right where there was an empty spot for us to set up our blankets. I was looking at the people out in the surf in their snow suits.... Wondering if mine was going to absorb a lot of water and make swimming difficult. Griff called me over to the hot tub and pool area which was crowded with people I didn't know. In an adjacent hot tub (I was somehow in a hot tub myself at this point, Sundae was holding a football. She threw it to me, and we began having a catch. I threw a perfect spiral, gently enough for her to catch it, and she passed it off to her right. That stranger threw it back into my tub, and so it went. The 2nd and 3rd ball I threw to sundae went astray, because I was too tight up against the back of my hot tub, and my arm kept hitting the concrete edge. On the 4th throw, I stood up and threw a bullet to Sundae. I immediately thought, 'shit, that was way too hard a throw, I'm going to hurt her' but she caught it, and congratulated me on not missing her again for a third time. I felt sheepish.

Sundae, you looked dead sexy in that orange bikini. You also looked like you had long straight brown hair, bolt on tits, and a gold chain with some kind of pendant that made your tan look perfect... But I still knew it was you. Like it was you in Jennifer Aniston's body.

That all probably has some kind of meaning. Never been one that had any success figuring out what my dreams meant though.. I figure Dana will have an idea or two.

Thanks for the shoutout Jimbo's subconscious. I have no idea.

Maybe the Reverend can help.

Shit. That's going to be stuck in my head now.

I went into my local shop to pick up my post. I'd somehow misbehaved in there quite recently and swore I'd never go back, out of shame. But in hindsight it seemed wrong not to support a local business and deny them custom when I was the one who caused the problem.

The Manager came by to mention politely that when I'd last used my card in there, although it had been processed at point of sale, when they'd submitted their receipts the bank had declined payment. It was £130. My stomach sank - no wonder my money had seemed to go further this fortnight. I said I would sort it out and get back to them, knowing full well it would be another four days before I could meet the payment.
I felt bad because I knew that everywhere I'd spent money since, being large chain shops and supermarkets, would always have had immediate payment. It was only because they were on an old sysem that they missed out.

It turns out that as well as holding my post for me they had a message taking service.
I picked my messages up. I scanned the sheet quickly. Blah blah DanaC, blah blah Limey - oh! a message from Bruce? He said if it was really needed he could help make up the £8 I needed for my travel card. Damn. £8 wouldn't even touch the sides now.

The lady behind the counter was understandably wary of me, adding to my guilt. What was it I'd done again? Kicked off in some way. Even though I knew I'd been sober I couldn't remember, except that I'd been rude.
I tried to engage her in conversation about my friend Peter. Because I'd remembered that he knew them in there too. I was trying to count his siblings. After his little brother was born, his parents had had more children, all girls. I worked out that he was one of seven siblings, and so came from a family unti of nine. I was trying to make a feeble joke about 7 of 9, but I couldn't get it across.

All I could think of was that I'd lied to Carruthers about having a bus-pass, and now I had no way to buy one. I had to get in contact with someone with photoshop skills so I could get some photos made up which showed me out and about and doing things so he'd never know. I thought about the cat photo, which I now realised didn't just have the one cat in it, but a whole row sitting like spectators across the top. It hadn't been done all that well either and I was embarrassed that I'd responded to it genuinely.

I was very close to going back and looking at that cat picture. That part made me lol, be a use I pictured it in my head!

I wish i could remember my dreams in such detail lol

It's amazing that you all can remember your dreams. I almost never remember mine more than five seconds.

Except one.

The Bad Dream terrifies me. It happens to me once or twice a week these days, after a long hiatus. I won't bore you all with the details as the dream is sparse anyway.

I don't normally do dream interpretation as all a dream is is your brain on holiday. But figuring this one is easy. It's rise, retreat and return have coincided with certain events in my life which tell me that the dream is my inner conscience talking to me, warning me of a very real danger which is not tangible yet poses a very real threat to me. Asking for help is right out, because firstly, that help comes with side effects which are unacceptable and second, there is no real help. Put a shrink on the rack for a while and he will eventually admit this.

I beat it once and I will have to try to beat it again, although i don't know if I have the strength to do it again.

You can do it, Pamela.

This is true.

Last night, Ali sent me a care package.
It was supposed to be something mundane - a DVD or a book or something. But as I was unpacking what became a large box there were all sorts of lovely treats in there.

I was living at my parents' house again, and I knew Mum would be so impressed with the beautiful cake (or a cake-stand natch) which I put on the side in the kitchen.

Bruce had delivered it, it turned out. In fact he's brought it all the way himself, because there was a piece of technology in there which was only currently available in Australia, and he and Ali had agreed it was best not to trust the vagaries of Customs (which it turns out Bruce can breeze through in person).

It was a solar battery, which looked like a glass ornament. I seemed to be back in my flat then (albeit a clean and empty one) and said to Bruce, "Well... I suppose I can put it on the windowsill? She probably doesn't realise how little sun we get here..."
I saw from his face that he was quite disappointed in my reaction. Not hurt, just sad that he and Ali had gone to so much trouble, and been so thoughtful, and the first thing I did was look for problems.
So I yapped on and on about how grateful I was, until I saw that was sickening too.

I didn't wake up too guilty though. Although I missed my cake.

They give you energy but you feel like you stumble in accepting it.

This describes my xoB and Ali experience as well

Oh my god.

I read this thing three times, trying to figure out whether Bruce had really flown to the UK or if your bats had flown the bellfry, before I finally realized it was the Cellar Dreamin' thread.

No technically a Dwellar, but Monster's SG.

I was in Leeds Central library, trying to get some information on something. It turned out that SG had taken a gap year to come back to the Mother Country, and she was the one who dealt with my enquiry.

I left as the library was closing, and she called after me on the street. She wanted to thank me for how helpful I'd been (it turned out that I hadn't been making an enquiry after all, I was volunteering there).

I woke up very pleased with myself.

They say one of the best ways to feel good about yourself is to help other people. I guess it even works in dreams!

Just woke from a dream featuring Carruthers, even though he didn't actuallly appear in the dream.

An elderly female neighbour had left him an Arts & Crafts style cottage in the small market town he lives in. In the dream it shifted between it being left to him and him just working on it as a favour, but he had some interest in the property at least.

It was a known, but unusual design. Although the two bedrooms were of a decent size, both had hidden panels in the floor and ceiling. If you opened up the panel in the floor it gave you access to a ramp which could be inserted into the ceiling. Another room would then be accessible. In both bedrooms the space you could get into was HUGE - three times the size of the attendant bedroom below.

I don't remember if I was actually supposed to be there, but I was curious because I'd never seen this layout before. Although apparently it's really common in the age and type of house. I fear I was trespassing, because my subsequent actions did not fill me with pride. Carr had left a tidy pile of working clothes/ materials in the smaller of the two "normal" bedrooms. I went through all of his pockets, looking for money and valuables. The lady who had owned the house had South African connections, and I found a 20 rand note screwed up in Carruther's "boiling suit". I knew this was worth about £100 (it's not, for clarity, it's about £1) so I folded it up more neatly and stowed it in my bra.

Woke up feeling quite ashamed.
And also, weirdly believing it was already my birthday and wondering if Mum would cook me breakfast.

Now that was a dream. :)

Yuck.
Dreamed Fargon had died (although in the dream he was referred to by his real name.)

Classic posted the news, but also the fact that Fargon had lost a lot of weight recently. I did the maths - in my dream I was able to do this in my head - and worked out he was six stone when he died. That's 84lbs.
Although it wasn't 84lbs in the dream, so maybe my maths was wrong after all.

I think I'm worrying about Mum's cancer treatment and conflating it with Syc's weight loss (positive) and that of the family friend with cancer (negative.)
Sorry to rope you in too, Fargon.

ETA - just realised why. You have the same first name as the Dad of a friend of mine who has leukemia.

Well I'm glad I didn't die. I could stand to lose some weight.

I can't remember the rest of the dream, but I dreamed of Carruthers in his dressing gown.

Now I know it came from a real-life conversation, about brown dressing gowns making men look like Obi Wan Kenobi, and from when I was with Dani buying her "Jedi" dressing gown. But in the dream he was stood at the top of the stairs, and the light shining behind him made him look very much like a Jedi Knight.

Oh - it wasn't some sort of ratty old brown towelling robe either. Even though I "knew" it was only his dressing gown, it was a full-on costume with all the layers and the belt and everything.

I didn't see his light-saber though.

[ETA - I'm sure it translates anyway, but I understand the more common term in Merkin may be "bathrobe"]

Yes we say "Bathrobe" in America.

Carruthers on my mind again!

Last night I dreamed I'd opted into a Goverment scheme for people who had mental health/ addiction issues currently or in the past. It was called a One Way card, (it was pink, FTR) and you received more benefits if you agreed to have your payments made to it.

It could only be used for food, but if you needed to access your money for another reason (I assume paying bills?!) you could do so if it was signed off by your GP or a religious minister.

I was trying to talk Carruthers into getting a pretendy certification so he could sign purchases off for me. Like a mail-order degree, not illegal, but not really valid either. For some reason he was protesting. Must have gone against his Jedi ideals or something.