The past sixteen days have been a dreamless blur. If my memory is correct, the average person has three dreams per day (depending on the length of the sleep cycle) and if they're lucky they might remember one or two. This fall I had the silliest of dreams: I walked into a store of pencil sharpeners with nary a pencil in sight, I bought the same groceries from Trader Joe's in my dream that I purchased hours before, and I tried to kill the Terminator. I dreamt consecutively of one person for several days and I still wonder if it's possible for two people to dream about each other at the same time. Surprisingly, I haven't had any dreams in Paris.
In other news, this is the room where I sleep. Electric Wall-E toothbrush and all. Now I'm off to work/work/launder/dance to Serge Gainsbourg! Tout à l'heure!