Friday, August 05, 2005


I phoned in sick yesterday. Since I was actually sick, I didn’t feel I had to do it in a funny voice.

The fever gave me weird dreams. At one point, I dreamt I was cleaning my right shoulder. It opened up at the top, and I could see that it was hollow, divided by flat, square walls into three narrow, oblong cavities that ran down the length of the arm. On the inside, it was the same color as on the outside, like the arm of a doll.

The three rooms of my arm were each filled with a dark and slightly (but not entirely) repulsive substance, which had a familiar, somewhat pleasant smell on it, like one’s own sweat, or navel fluff. I dug it out with a pincer, but since I had to do it with my left hand it was laborious and time-consuming.

Telling people your dreams is like showing them slides from your holiday.

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