I’m not going to have any dreams if I can’t first fall asleep. We went to bed early, around 10-something, but while she dropped off immediately with exhaustion, I couldn’t do the same. So after two hours of tossing, I was suddenly inspired to bundle up in sweaters and thick socks and bring a chair and propane lantern into the backyard, where I sat for the last two hours reading Douglas Hofstadter’s Metamagical Themas.
Two hours of that (in New Jersey) is enough to make anyone’s nose cold, so now I’m inside boiling water for some spaghetti.
She’s so peaceful, clutching my pillow to her chest.
1309 EST: Actually, I had lots of really intense dreams, when I finally fell asleep, and yet I can’t remember a single one. One image that does seem to persist is a large paper bag, on fire.