Dreamed of getting into a fight with Father, and duelling with Indian clubs; being in a dystopian Manhattan world of lies and doublethink, where the ruling elite amused themselves by sending people on quests to find the "truth"; seeing a plaque warning against angry demonstrations, and pointing out its spelling and grammatical mistakes; singing "Jim Dandy to the Rescue."
Headache.
Dinner was spaghetti.
My Dick Tracy package on Ebay is already sold!
I was going to go to the Games Meetup but I was unwell. (I threw up in the evening.)
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