Was up all night reading Isabel de Madariaga's Catherine the Great, and so after writing a short paper about it, sitting through lecture, and turning it in, I headed home for a brief nap.
I dreamed that I was watching some Romney campaign event with a few fellow distilled spirits. Romney was being introduced by Pawlenty. One of the spirits, who is from Minnesota, noted that Governor Pawlenty looked happy, at which point I said that I hoped it wasn't some death rattle euphoria where the tight smile and bright eyes masked frenzied synaptic explosions bursting like so many atomic fourth of July sparklers in that spam loving cerebrum of his at the culmination of which he'd drag a bunch of hookers to a Denny's in a wild Cagean mania and do lines of coke off some kid's birthday pancake.
At this point in the dream I had a sort of seizure, and woke up.
I do hope, incidentally, that that doesn't happen.
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