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I came home from work today, wrote the previous blog-post, and then fell into bed face-first. I dreamt that I was squatting a little pink house that no one wanted because it was pink, so I was pretty safe squatting there. I lived with a boyfriend who was not Alex, but I don't know who he was. Maybe he was no one I know in real life.

Renata and I had joined a literary discussion group, so we took a bus from a bus station located inside the Centre Jaude mall in Clermont-Ferrand, heading off into the wilds of Auvergne for our meeting. Most of the other buses, interestingly enough, were going to New Jersey. I don't know how that works.

It was a long ride to wherever we were going, so at one point we all got off the bus and learned all of the passengers were in the book club. We were sitting around a waiting room, and someone asked me how I liked the book. I got defensive and started yelling that I hadn't read it yet, but I was going to, so don't worry, and get off my back, and anyway, I prefer to hear the discussion and then read the book, plus I had already read Shall We Tell the President? and I wasn't a big fan of Jeffrey Archer anyway. Luckily Agnès called and woke me up before I started getting violent.

srah - Monday, 27 January 2003 - 1:47 PM
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