February 15, 2001
Exquisite cottages in Boston
I should be heading to work soon, but The Third Man is on and Orson Welles is about to be all smug and smirky on the ferris wheel. I can't leave before the cuckoo clocks.
Last night I dreamt that Mom, Dad, and I were going back to Boston. We fought about what day it was. I told Mom I needed to go to the bank. We then looked out the window at the "exquisite cottages," a "quaint" shopping district full of cutsey crap: it was night, but we could still make out the image from all the Christmas lights. I pointed out that there was a reason we didn't go.
Another dream: watching TV? Flashes of Queen Elizabeth II, Mark McGrath of Sugar Ray, and Tucker Carlson. I think I was watching TV with Kathleen.