I had the worst nightmare the other night. I dreamed that I was back in that awful Ramada Inn, and I had come back to my room after the morning session of the test to lie down, and then I slept through the afternoon session.

But that wasn't the bad part. The bad part was the fact that I would not wake up. I was standing in that room after 'waking up' from the nap, saying to myself over and over again, "Please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream," and I was pinching myself and pulling on my hair and pounding the wall, and in my dream, it was not a dream.

It was horrid. My pulse was racing and my breath was shallow and I was standing there, not believing that I had slept through the test, thinking about whether or not I should confess to everyone what I had done, or just lie and then try to act surprised when I fail.

And it wasn't like all along I still knew it was a dream. In the dream, I kept praying that it was a dream, but when I didn't wake up I really felt like it was real. Then I went outside and everyone from my high school was standing around in matching outfits, and it started to dawn on me that something wasn't right, and then I woke up, but by that time I was too exhausted to even be relieved that it was, in fact, a dream.

Just for the record, I did not sleep through either afternoon of the test, but I'm still not going to be surprised when my name isn't on the magic list.

And I'm completely irritated by the fact that despite a week and a half of lying around doing absolutely nothing, I still have enough residual bar exam anxiety to give me nightmares.

A great summertime storm blew through here today. A couple of them, actually. It was hot and sticky all morning, and just as I was getting back from running my errands, a big black cloud moved in overhead. Soon I was standing on my balcony, breathing in that wonderful storm-scented air.

Soon after that, however, the lovely moment was over, when the wind picked up and the rain started going sideways. I stood inside at the sliding door for a while, until I felt the door bow in, and then I decided that it probably wasn't such a good idea to stand in front of it anymore.

I love, love, love a good storm. As long as there's no real danger -- you know, we don't get many hurricanes in Kansas, and we're pretty late in the tornado season -- there's really nothing better. The sound of the rain interspersed with rumbling, gutteral thunder, occasional flashes of light brightening the room. Such atmosphere, such mood. Makes me want to do nothing except grab a blanket, a cup of tea, and a good mystery and settle in on the couch. So cliched, but it's true. Can't help it. I'm a cliche kind of girl.

I'm trying to start writing again, to get back to work on my novel. (That sounds so funny to me... "my novel." But I'm entitled, right?) It's been more difficult than I expected. I think I'm still so drained, and now having to focus on getting a job, that my creativity is just stalled. Plus I've been away from it for so long... it's been probably six months since I put any time in on it. I read through everything I have so far (about 120 typed pages), and I'm still interested in the story, so that's good. I sat down with Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird" (the best writing book on the market) and re-read the chapters entitled Short Assignments, Shitty First Drafts, and Perfectionism. Very inspirational.

Now I just have to do it.

Since Mary went canoeing for the weekend and Tara's mother was visiting, I went to Blockbuster and rented Three Kings, The Opposite of Sex, and Girl, Interrupted.

The Opposite of Sex was very good, and I know I'm about a year late to this particular party, but still. Christina Ricci was wonderful, extraordinarily funny, and I'm very happy to see that she has not felt the need to become a twig. I identified a little too closely with Lisa Kudrow's character, Lucia. (And just for the record, I happen to have a very good friend with that name, but I had never heard of it before I met her.) But I would never go for Lyle Lovett, I don't care how desperate I am, I just don't get why people think he's attractive. I'm sure he's a very nice man, but let's be honest.

I thought the performances in Girl, Interrupted were fantastic, but it dragged on a little bit. Plus it really made me want to smoke, which normally does not happen. (I usually had one cigarette before I went to bed while I was studying and about half a pack during the week of the exam, but nothing since. I don't know why I don't get addicted, but I don't. It's probably a bad thing, because it makes me completely unmotivated to just give it up forever.)

What was I talking about? Oh, right, the movie. The exteriors were shot in a town called Mechanicsburg, which is the town in between Carlisle (where my law school was) and Harrisburg, but the only thing I really recognized was a bridge that Winona Ryder stands next to for about five seconds.

Three Kings, I must say, was a disappointment. I had been wanting to see it for a long time, and I liked the first half hour, but then I got completely bored. I didn't even finish watching it. I know everybody raved about it, so it's probably just me.

My normal "real life" e-mail address is completely broken, which is totally annoying. Not only am I not getting any e-mail, but anyone that writes to me gets their messages bounced back as undeliverable. I can still write to people, though, so I've just sent everyone in my address book an e-mail to tell them not to write to me for a while.

Sigh. I think the one thing our children will have the hardest time learning is patience. My e-mail system is broken for three days and it's like the end of the world. That can't be good.