I've been dreaming a place I've dreamt before. It's my favorite, all wood walls and floors, high ceilings, and doors with transoms. And long dimly lit hallways, and several grand plans... I would give very many things to live there. I always feel good there, in my sleep. If the map in my mind is correct, which just isn't possible, the place I'm dreaming of is just a short run from here. I'm tempted to look.

The past two mornings, just before five a.m., my radio turns itself on, and dramatic music comes out, the end of Overnight Music, at a volume that's loud only at that time of day. It isn't an alarm clock, it's a ten year old stereo. I must have done something to it to make this happen, but I don't want to investigate. I'd rather just spend each night wondering in my dreams if it will happen again. It's possible that I've never been happier than the two times it has, and I've had some impossibly happy times...

The weather these past few days has been... I can only describe it as dramp, a word I seem to have made up. It feels like I'm out at sea. I listen to the Rachel's, and I close my eyes, and I can feel the room rocking gently back and forth. It may just be that my equilibrium is faulty, but I'm enjoying it.

p.s. I am horrible. Two friendly-voiced postal employees in two different cities very sweetly lied to me, but it's ultimately my fault. Stop waiting for a couple of days, and then start again, okay? I am really very sorry for making a promise I didn't keep.