I've long been bewildered by the utter mundanity of my dreams. After all, I'm a vaguely artistic sort of chap who regularly wrestles with works of high imagination. And do I dream of centaurs & sea-nymphs & heroes in battle with the spirits of rivers? No. I dream of getting on-line in a lesson three hours before I actually go on-line. I suppose it's a form of lesson preparation, but stultifyingly dull.
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