dear internet spies this morning i dreamt of what seems to be a recurring haunted house dream. the house almost entirely consists of large open stair wells linked together by poorly lit claustrophobic rooms with offshoots of small winding stair wells. some of the rooms are near empty, others have scattered belongings strewn around. this morning the entrance to the haunted house was via a small service building. a dirty building, following two other workers in. i never saw them again: literally out of sight, out of mind, out of existence. where the service building became the house, i was admonished by - i'm unsure know who or what - to ensure to bring back some jewellery with me. now, whoever the person, female, bossy, manipulative, uncouth, common, example of victorian working class... was it really so? the inference of this person being a spirit in the house did not come until later. on drawing myself further inside the house. i passed another 'spirit', a more modern woman, and friendly, smiling, wearing denim. her status as a spirit of a dead person came again, after the event, but before the first person. back in the real world, it's cold in this house. for the umpteenth time this year i regretted making the decision to not turn on the storage heaters before going to bed. it's 830am and the traffic is still passing by noisily. i'm pretty much convinced the haunted-house dream is caused by the traffic. it would explain the recurrence... and why i forget about it: shift patterns mean i only suffer the rush hour traffic every other week. inside the house the traffic is mainly loud whooshing noises with large lorries and trucks rumbling by and the especially large shaking the house. it's yet another dull grey damp morning of blanket-cloud. back in the dream i have passed through a poorly lit room and am looking out onto one of the large open stair wells. something reminds me of past experience this way. it warns me away from something expected to be supernatural and malevolent. i am fearful of it. i turn back into the room behind me. when reaching the double doors at the opposite side of the room, one of them is blowing back and forth never quite closing. cold air is whooshing through. it's very cold. i struggle with the doors but the force is too strong and i can't keep them open for long enough to pass through. wake up here. the traffic is heavy outside, whooshing by. it's cold, my shoulders exposed from the duvet, cold. it's the traffic causing the dreams i realize. an opportunity here. face my fears. to take control like what almost happened in the previous night's cycling dream. the traffic could be used as a trigger for lucid dreaming.