February 19, 2001
A murder at the Center
I still can't sleep for more than an hour at a time because of all my illnesses. (I've got two going at the same time right now, and the contraction of coughing really helps the other one make my life even more miserable than usual.)
I dreamt the Center moved to a nineteen-floor building, and I asked Howard not to move my office from the corner of the eighteenth floor. It had an attached bathroom and private bedroom, so it was heavenly. Then I went up to the nineteenth floor, and they told me that there had been a murder or a suicide attempt and no one was allowed up there. The doors were dark cherry wood and lined with burgandy drapes--very Victorian.
"Tell Matt I'm ready to go to Chicago now."
I was entertaining some guy in my room by going through blaxploitation movie trading cards with movie review quotes on them.