I stood without wings; you just flew.

Last night I had a dream where I thought up 3 novel ideas. Only 2 of them were good. Of course, upon waking, I can't remember any of them.

I'm not as starving as I thought I would be this morning, considering the buffet dinner last night. I think I just ate to a point of "discomfort" but not out and out "pain". It's a fine line. Also the use of my trade secret: smiling/grimacing suppresses the vomit reflex.

Despite the subfreezing temps, I'm off to Evanston to copy like I mean it.