Per Anne Boyer on Facebook, MY post "being paid in jouissance" reading dreams: I was in a bath house very like (or it was) the Gellert baths in Budapest, where Sarah Jessica Parker---in one of those wraparound string bikinis we used to wear in the 80s---was teaching water dancing to a fleet of current and former starlets, including a dramatically aged and peeling Sophia Loren, with Catherine Deneuve just behind, all of the aging stars accusing SJP of knowing as well as they do the beneficial powers of Retin-A; I was in a narrow hotel room in the mountains, lying on a shag rug by the sliding glass doors waiting for my ex-husband to come up the wrought-iron stairs; my ex-husband had a tan; the ice in the paper cup of water on the hotel kitchen sink was still ice three days later; from the narrow narrow bathroom I tried to make or receive a telephone call from the Italian or Iranian gangster or banker next door; a murder was being plotted or discovered; the menu was hand-corrected and a political call-to-action; the assistant director of development and I had a strange exchange related to both my ex-husband and the gangster, in the doorway of the hotel room, near the bathroom, but I can't remember what was said; I looked over the balcony to the parking lot below; I put the butter in the freezer (wait, that was just now); this is only a third of it, I don't recall the order of events, obviously it doesn't matter. I woke up with what might be a cold, but also, I woke up and my apartment was very cold. First cold morning of fall.