Two more strange dreams these last two nights, the first a sexual (sort of, anyway) fiasco turned bloody encounter with a half-shark half-whale in a swimming pool turned having my foot stuck in a display of massively multiplayer online games at a book signing by none other than Ana, who as far as I know has not yet written any books. And yet still i reject Freud.

And last night was more about dealing with the past, with death and transition and thirteen year old friendships and these feelings of inadequacy and uselessness graduate school is so adept at promulgating.