Woke up from a dream that was a combination of last night, yesterday, and past grievances. We are at Belvedere’s, and my legs are made of torn styrofoam (similar to my students’ sculptures earlier in the week!); We are all friends, sort of, at least hanging out together but something goes wrong. We are being too friendly, and I can tell it’s something I can’t do, because I know things can’t be going this way; you start to tear off my legs when I get upset – and I don’t understand why any of this is happening at Belvedere’s, or why my legs are made of styrofoam, or why everyone is being so terrible.
