Except for the fact that every waking moment of my weekend was spent staring at and trying to make sense of two homework assignments, I had a good weekend that went by too fast.

My stomach aches with this pace my courses are going in. I will never again take an 8 week online course. I just cannot do it, especially when also being subjected to a course for which I should be getting 4 credits. In fact, I don't think my 4 credit courses had weekly short papers, with 3 long papers, and tests and readings and discussions, and now a research essay on top of all of that. I think I will be doing mine on humanism. It is the easiest, least stressful, and least annoying topic I could find.

I am losing track of time, which frightens me. I need to not be losing track of time. I have a deadline on Wednesday that requires reading a chapter, and a test by Sunday that requires reading two more plus studying a total of 4 chapters, while reading another chapter for a test, continuing research, as well as writing and replying and wondering where this year has gone!

I ordered a new phone. I finally got a smart phone. Traitor to myself that I've become. I hope I like it. It can't be much worse than the one that just died. I feel lost without a phone. In fact being such a full-on agoraphobe, it helps me feel okay about leaving the house, which explains some things...because I haven't really left the house to do anything like shopping since mine died. I have no phone to pretend call if someone looks like they will try to speak to me. I have no phone to play with to distract myself from any situation or person that is stressing me out. Furthermore I have no way to call police if I really need to.

I am trying to not beat myself up over missing one of the questions in the case study assignment. 46/50 is not a bad grade. And she asks hard questions!

I have had some great dreams this week. I don't know if I mentioned it in previous entries, but in one dream I was walking down a semi-busy street, and I met an older, thin, slightly aging woman with dark hair, in a dark dress, old, like 1930's or 40's style house dress. She introduced herself to me, and her name was a disorder...I can't remember which one. Each of her actions was exactly what the disorder would do, if there were little to no outside influence of personality. She was the pure embodiment of the disorder. I was aware in my dream that each person walking past were all different disorders, dressed differently, walking differently, all according to the documented traits.

In another dream I lived on Kierkegaard Street. My house was huge and old, a block long. Out the livingroom window was a light yellow sign in the corner that read <--ea ae--> with hands pointing the directions.

I was searching for something the entire dream.

In my dream last night me and my boyfriend were looking into getting a condo. We arrived at this gigantic old building, at least 6 floors. Our guide told us of the rooftops library and gardens, shops, etc. We were shown one of the available units, and I immediately noticed that it was possible to hear literally everything of the person below. As we were leaving, my boyfriend asked the maintenance guy about the penthouse unit we had seen while driving in, and the man said it was condemned, but he whispered �not because there's anything wrong with it...it's just not monitored.� We realized that the reason the unit was not for sale was that it was separated and �they� couldn't listen in to everything going on in the unit. So he gave us the key, and told us the combination to make the elevator open. We took the elevator the 6 or 7 floors, arriving at the library. We explored expecting to see books. Instead we saw very loud people socializing, and boxes and shelves of information on each resident available for anyone to find out anything of any resident in the building. It was not a library holding books, it was a library holding everything about everyone there. The fact that we had arrived to see a unit garnered my boyfriend a file in the library, for which he stole as we went to see the unmonitored unit.

The elevator felt like those creepy cement carport elevators. I pushed the code in and it went up one floor, opening to the unmonitored unit. It looked fine, but we heard someone messing with the elevators and decided to leave. Another maintenance guy caught us in the elevator, and asked what we were doing...

After this I woke up. Very grateful I don't live there. In short, it seemed like some odd commune. Everyone was aware of being monitored. Everyone was complicit in it. Everyone had a smile on their faces, was loud, and overly friendly...

But scary enough, I saw this article that is very much like what I dreamed of:

**Techies revive communal living**

In news of my discussions, my instructor sent me this message:

�Your responses are awesome. I wish the whole class could read them! �

I just need to quit college and write full time already...really. This school crap hurts my stomach.

In honor of my unconscious mansion on Kierkegaard Street:

�The self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but that the relation relates itself to its own self.� ~ Soren Kierkegaard

That would be on my front door...it makes no sense...just like much I am reading in textbooks these days

~e