|Alighiero Boetti - Tutto (Everything)|
- I've had dreams for the past three days. All had their features: hackers, train rides, alternate lives, batch mates. I feel refreshed in the morning. Maybe sleeping has become such a mechanical task - closing my eyes on the bus, timing my sleep, waking up to my alarm clock - that dreaming was the least of my mind's concern. It's going to be one of the things I'll miss the most when I die: the feeling of dreaming.
- My son now knows how to ride a bicycle.
- I made a visit to our attic and found about a fourth of my book stash already eaten by termites. Most of them were duds from Booksale, but I almost teared up to see my withered copy of Romesh Gunesekera's Monkfish Moon.