From one end or the other, I'm forgetting how to not be awake at six in the morning. I have a headache all the way down to my chin because I went to sleep early this morning and woke up early this morning and then slept poorly a bit more in the early afternoon. My sense of time is broken and I may need to be reset at the factory, but I don't know where the factory is.

No one ever sends me text messages anymore. I'm going to forget where the punctuation is.

Last night around nine or ten I was watching a bit of that movie where Cary Grant's wife is lost at sea and he remarries or something and then lost-at-sea-wife comes back. They're all spending an awkward evening together. Cary Grant's and lost-at-sea-wife's daughter is playing the piano and she keeps getting it wrong and starting over. The song she's playing is one of the greatest songs in the world, it is a crashing disaster. Their son comes in with a dramatic recitation and the whole thing feels like a tornado somehow. New-wife can't take it anymore, but lost-at-sea-wife loves it, and Cary Grant just sits there watching and listening, looking about as happy as a person can get. I really like that scene. I'd like it to be twice as long. Maybe even three times as long.

Later on at about midnight Francis and Sam and I were walking single filishly (filishly doesn't look anything like the way it sounds) down a quiet street. We had been talking, but I left them in the conversation and drifted off on my own, thinking about who knows what and studying the steps in front of the buildings, looking at the leaves. I heard a voice shout, "Hey," but I couldn't get out of my head to pay attention. I found out later that it had been Falton, who had run up the other side of the street and noticed us and shouted before jumping into a truck and being driven away. It never made any sense and it never will. It's the sort of thing that happens in a dream.

I've been having terrible dreams lately. I get scared in my sleep and feel strangely all day. I think someone should start a service where you can call someone the second you wake up and tell them as much of your dreams as you can remember, all while your voice is still sleepy and rough, all before your eyes wake up. It would help so much. Yesterday I called Sam and told him my dream about being on an airplane lined with bookshelves, about a computer that had a giant Z in the center of the keyboard and a slot for postage stamps. It was good, but I can't do that every day. He'll either want to marry me or kill me, and neither is acceptable. I would advertise for a dream listener on craigslist, but I don't feel much like talking to strangers, anymore.

It's nice the way all of that rain made everyone forget what it's like when the sun comes out. The sky being bright feels like a magic trick and it makes it nicer when it gets dark. I don't know, everyone's voices seem warmer and their stories are better and it seems like there is a lot of really good laughter going on. It's going to get pretty cold tonight. Sweaters and haircuts and Ray Bradbury stories. I'm having a nice fall.