bintlog v2.0
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
What, me, worry?
Hadn't had an anxiety dream in a long time but I have a feeling they'll be much more frequent in the coming months. A few nights ago I dreamed that I was at a YMCA with Mark. We brought a beachball and another ball and played with them in the pool, where we were alone except for a young black woman. After a while, we left our toys in the pool and went shopping for clearance golf items, still in our swimsuits. When we returned to the pool, it was totally crowded with people playing with beachballs provided by the Y; our balls were floating around, ignored. I jumped in to retrieve them, but just as I approached the beachball, the young woman took it and swam off with it. I pursued and explained nicely that it was ours and I wanted to take it home. I even offered her a replacement ball. She refused to give it up and I was overwhelmed with fury at the injustice of it all. Nothing I said would make her give me the ball or even really acknowledge that I was there. So I stormed off and loudly called her a bitch, much to the horror of the mommies. When I got to my pile of clothes, five men dressed in 19th-century police uniforms were waiting for me.

Of course, the meaning of this dream is clear: It's time to buy golf stuff!

I have much to say about school but I need to organize my head. I cleaned my desk but entropy is my destiny and I am awash in scraps of paper again. I bought a new cube of post-its the other day (wow, those things are expensive!!). As always, I operate under the misconception that if I acquire the right mix of office supplies, my life will be perfect. I may be just one binder with color-coded index tabs away from a dissertation and not even realize it!


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