Pad Thai for breakfast is a good thing. Even if the dreams were a trifle odd. I keep seeing this same place, a building much like a high school with long hallways and stairs.
Instead of studying for my exam, I've spent the morning reading for sheer pleasure. MY new issue of Harpers arrived yesterday, and I have to start The Swell Season for my Skvorecky class. Ahh. It's okay. I'll stay up late tonight.
I'm home watching figure skating's epic drama, with the lovely Irina on the ice now. Graceful sport. I used to have an odd obsession with it, and wrote half of a love story between a musician and an ice skater. It was a very strange, out of character thing for me.