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2003-04-01
While Visions of Sugar Plums Danced in Their Heads...
I went to bed so early last night, it was embarrassing. I'm always like that during the first week of classes--there isn't anything decent for me to do, so I just spend countless hours snoring away on that flimsy boxspring mattress. I passed out close to 9:30, but who can be sure? Anyway, I woke up about an hour ago, so that's pretty damn near twelve hours of sleep. I know there must be plenty of you dear readers who are glistening with envy right now. (Ooh, I like that. Glistening with envy. Can you do that?) That's right. Eat it all up.
Life right now is kind of ho-hum, although I'm sure that something catastrophic is sure to come sprinting along and change that perspective entirely. I had a dream that I was walking down Seventeenth Avenue and I was stopped by Katrina, of all people. She was watching some mime dance along the street, which was weird--I don't think I've ever seen any mimes or performers on campus in my life, unless you count the rapping bums along High Street. Being nice, I stopped to talk to her, but she was too engrossed in what the midget mime was doing, so there really wasn't any point to staying there any longer. But just as I was about to turn around and say, "Goodbye," Erin saddled my left shoulder, and flanked me into a permanent position there along the sidewalk.
It was eerie. I didn't know what to say or do. (Can you actually say things in dreams? I'm not too sure of that.) I didn't want to talk to her, but I couldn't just ignore her, either. Luckly, she didn't say too much, but she did remember to pinch my shoulder a few times. Ha ha. Good old, violent Erin.
I'd like to tell you what happened after that, but soon after the mime waddled down past the Journalism Building, Katrina and I found a nearby train station (right across the street, actually) that was designed in a Parisian Disney style, and sped away without any passports. No, really.
I need to stop sleeping so early.
posted at 9:19 a.m.
