(diaryland) October 01, 2004 - 12:02 p.m.

Today, I am Professor Clare. Wearing a vest, plaid shirt and dirty pants. I could even be a guy.

I keep getting executed in dreams. For some reason, it's not always that stressful.

Ages ago, I got burnt at the stake. That hurt. And then last year, I was going to get the electric chair, but I accidentally began another dream just before the final moment.

A few nights ago, Rosemary killed me by lethal injection. I sat down in a little chair in an empty room, and she killed me. I said that I didn't mind since she was my friend and if she thought killing me was for the best, then that was cool with me. I was a bit of a doormat in the dream.

Anyway, luckily, after about half an hour, someone miraculously resuscitated me, and then I went on a whole string of other adventures. It was a pretty good dream.

Hey, I had cheese dried onto the side of my finger just before. Now it's disappeared. Where did it go?