Every once in a while I have dreams in which I’m back in high school and screwing up. Last weekend offered a variation on that—and usually they are variations. This one I was in college, but a high school-like-college, and I had screwed up something—not doing homework, missing tests, that sort of thing—and I was going to fail all my classes. The tension of these types of dreams tend to revolve around the moment at which the problem becomes too significant to ignore, and the moment at which I address it. In fact, I dropped out of high school in my senior year. I was a bit of a fuck up. Sometimes I think about going back; you know, one could turn that sort of thing into an article. I never got my GED: I took classes at UC Berkeley when I was in high school, I went to junior college, I transferred to and graduated from UC Berkeley, I went to grad school. Despite all those boxes checked, I’m still the girl who has dreams in which I’m screwing everything up all over again.
Buy my short story "The Tumor" — it’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."