Shpilkis, part two

You know how sometimes you wake up, but the sleep doesn't go away. You're up alright, but your body is only half cooperating, on autopilot, and your mind seems missing in action. You get up, sure you've overslept, sure you need more sleep, sure you have to be somewhere, sure you're missing some major commitment. But you can't put your finger on just what you're missing, or even what day it is. You'd be hard pressed to recite your name, age, and social security number with any accuracy.

That happened to me today.

I woke up in this furious combination of panic and exhaustion today a little after 5 pm. Somehow the message floated through the haze: PICK UP ALEX. I forced myself up and into the car.

Driving, I was trying to think through the fog that lay thickly on my mind. I had just gotten back from AAR, I dimly remembered meeting with David Ford, with whom I want to study at Cambridge. But what was it he said to me? "Strong application"? "Very strong recommendations"? Was it true or some trick of the torpor, like the summer heat tricking the thirsty eye to see water where there was none?

There were other, even more encouraging things that thought I remembered him saying. I won't repeat them, because if I'm remembering it correctly or just pulling it unknowingly from my subconscience, either way it's embarrassing.

But even if exhaustion embroidered my memory, at least for now the electrician's son from Wadsworth is good enough to dream.

So pinch me. And, yes, please continue to pray for me too.