Looks like we're not in New Hampshire anymore

The warm nights continue to challenge sleep with dreams. After Friday morning's attempt to explain post-modernish, I woke at 4am today from an AU of The Secret History, set less romantically in something that appeared to be the physics department of a 1970s university. The final straw was when some bloke handed me the minutes of the murder they had committed covered with red pen and instructed me to improve them. I woke up on telling him to shove it.

This was still an improvement on spending the rest of the night attempting to work out a bar bill.