2004-02-05..11:48 a.m.

Weirdest mid-waking dreams this morning. I set my alarm to go off about an hour before I need to get up so that I can reset it knowing I�ve a rather delicious extra hour to knock about in bed. I actually also set my alarm clock fifteen minutes fast so that when I do find myself thinking I ought to get up, I can then remember that I�ve in fact another fifteen minutes to play with. (My name is meep, and I play mind games.)

Regardless, this dream. It started out in the ghetto* in the fall. I was sitting on the front lawn and thinking that it was a bit damp, but very green, chatting to some dude who may have lived down the street, waiting for my old housemate to get her groove on so we could get to class. Finally, I go into the house to find her and it turns into this maze of corridors in the fine arts department. So there I am trying to find her studio, when I stumble into a caf� where my final Lit exam is being held and I have to barter with the chick at the counter to be let in because I don�t have my student card, or any money to pay the admin fee to be let in without it. She shrugs and goes and serves someone a coffee, and I�m left hanging over the counter wondering if I�ll ever get my degree. In the background Michael is doing callisthenics.

I really would not be sure what any of this means, but for the fact I sent an email to Goldsmiths yesterday afternoon telling them I want to reclaim my spot in the 20th Century Lit masters programme that I had to defer for a year last September. The stress is getting to me.

meep

*where I went to uni the �ghetto� fondly referred to the mass of student housing that stretched around the campus. It�s fairly devoid of giant rats for a ghetto, though it does host an inordinate number of overconfident squirrels who terrorise the neighbourhood. Nelle woke up more than once to a giant black squirrel** dancing at the end of her bed. They would chew their way in through the screen. Hers was an attic room that had a door out to the fire escape (safety first, people), so it would get as unbelievably stuffy in there over the summer as bitterly cold in the winter. Finally, she gave up and would only have the door when she was at home with an old shoe to hurl at the ready, just in case.

**actually this was pretty funny. The squirrel had only one eye (got in a fight with a stray cat)(you should see the cat), so stalked about with its head cocked to one side, but if you stuck up on it, you could scare the living shit out of it! Hilarious until it got sick of that game, and started charging everything that got on its bad side, all knotty claws and fangs with no tail. I get creeped out just thinking about it. My flatmates laugh at me for this, but there is nothing scarier than a could-be-rabid for-all-intents-and-purposes fluffy stumped rat that beats up cats.