Victorianitas

And so, I had this dream in which I discovered my hair was actually a wig, and I phoned my mother, and she said that it was a 'permanent wig' I'd had for the past twenty-five years, because some kind of fungal infection had turned all my hair green. "But it can't be a wig," I said, "it grows!" and she explained that permanent wigs draw up nutrients from the scalp to do that. Annoyed, I told her I wanted it removed, and she sighed, very impatient, and said that I could if I wanted, but I should be aware that my actual hair colour was a very fair red, and did I really think that would look good on me? Which I didn't. But then again, if this was a wig, I'd never be able to accept compliments on 'my' hair ever again now I knew I hadn't grown it myself. And all the time, part of me whispered "but you knew it was a wig, really. Your hair is too nice to be your own."

In other news, I think I'm getting worried about my viva. Can you tell?
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* - For the uninitiated...