I took me two hours to get to sleep last night, and then I couldn't stay asleep. I woke up 4 times to pee. Completely unpredictable. I should have been sleepy when I went to bed at 11:30 -- I get up at 5:30 a.m. on Mondays -- but I wasn't. I had slept extra-soundly the previous three nights, so maybe I was just all rested up. I woke up (again) at 5, but, instead of getting up and doing something, I lay in bed till 6 and tortured myself trying to figure out my cash flow for the next two months.
I slept some, I know, because I dreamed that I was in the back seat of a car with my English professor trying to come up with an instance of female bisexuality in Southern literature.
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Did you come up an instance?
In the dream, we didn't. And I've been thinking about it on and off all day and nothing pops up in my brain. The Color Purple is not really Southern is it? There must be some girl on girl somewhere in Tennessee Williams.
In Night of the Iguana by Tennessee Williams, the women's religious group's leader is a deranged dyke who is in hysterical unrequited love with a 15-year-old vixen-in-training who dumps the lesbo's tired whining ass for an older preacher man, two Mexican beach boys and then an American bus driver near her own age. A classic.
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