Wednesday, March 26, 2003
I just work up. woke up. tired, throat hurts. I thought it was 'desert throat', what those brave young people get in the rush of warring arabic sandstorms, which would fit in nicely with my dream--my city block was struck with an errant cruise missle, aiming perhaps for the turbaned donut seller. George bush woke me up with some much-applaused evangelical platitudes, and i wasn't sure if this just wasnt another nightmare.