Finally got a decent night’s sleep. Told myself to stop worrying so much about being productive, winning awards and getting recognition. I mean, I profess not to care about those things, but that’s pretty much of a lie. What I really worry about is not being able to take care of myself, and sometimes it seems like you have to shoot for fame and fortune if you want to have any chance of being self-sufficient. But self-sufficiency is probably as much of an illusion as fame.

Had a dream that I was back in my old house, in the downstairs bathroom. The toilet paper was made of recycled paper – specifically, old journals like the ones I’ve been keeping. I think the point was clear: that that’s all these journals are really good for in the end (no pun intended). But I may have missed the point, because I remember wanting to read those journals, too. Some of them were from the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, and had my mom’s handwriting. Then I looked in the bathtub and I saw it was about one-quarter full, and there was toilet paper clogging the drain.

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