In the last 24 hours I've developed a clammy, panicky fear that I can't handle all the demands placed on me -- I'm invested in service through the Tretter Collection, research through two conference papers and my dissertation, and of course the teaching, which no matter how much I prepare always seems ready to take more time. Then there's family and friends, and all the social stuff I intend to do in the Twin Cities this weekend.
Last night I dreamt that I snuck over to a stranger's car, a convertible with the top down, and figured out how to put the top back. It was raining, and I reasoned that I would help them from getting everything soaked. I set up the top, but just before I was finished they appeared, and I ran away, afraid and embarrassed. They tracked me down, came to my door and confronted Adam, who had no idea. They were forthright, and I confessed what I had done. They didn't mind after all. I served everyone iced tea, but I forgot to filter it, so we all had pieces of tea in our glasses.
There was much more detail than that, of course, but it's fading already. Time to get started.
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