We had a new apartment. It's an open sort of garden apartment, and right next door to a brick office building like the Judge Baker and Children Association in Boston. I'm standing at the window looking across into an office, and there's Evans _________, and I remark to myself that he must have two jobs. He catches my eye as I'm looking over at him, waves and then comes over to the apartment with a group of people, and we have a big party up on the roof. Audrey comes home. Then there are just the two of us there together, and there's something about my mixing a drink. Then the doorbell rings. She goes downstairs, comes back and says that there's somebody selling the Saturday Evening Post, and I should go down and tell him that we don't want any. I say why the hell don't you tell him, and she says she's too embarrassed. I had the image of the salesman being a young boy, but as I was going downstairs, I saw thru the bottom of the door, and it was the front porch of the house that I grew up in on Summerset Street in New Brunswick. I saw under the door this foot and it was a club foot which explained why Audrey was too embarrassed. She probably would have wanted to buy the magazine out of sympathy, but then she would have had a hard time explaining to me why she got the Saturday Evening Post. Anyway I opened the door and feeling a little sheepish myself, I said that we didn't want the Saturday Evening Post and closed the door. The scene shifts and I'm in a large city that's old Boston which is being changed into New Boston. The most distinctive part is a very old and elaborately decorated, with lots of facades, church. It reminds me of the church alongside of the harbor in Lisbon as you come in, and Calvin and I were talking about Portugal last night and how death-like it is. There was a similar quality about this old Boston. It seems like it was late at night and there were no people around. There wouldn't have been many people around even if it was daytime because the whole place was in a state of disarray. I was in a taxicab, and he driver was pointing out all the different buildings that were going to be torn down and rebuilt. Then all of a sudden he started up this unbelievably steep bridge, so steep that as I was sitting there in the car in the back seat, I could feel kinesthetically that if a little breeze came along, the car might tip over backwards. It was going up almost perpendicularly. I was frightened, but didn't say anything, figuring the taxi driver knew what he was doing. He probably took this route many times. Still I wondered how he stood it. Then I remembered having taken the same bridge myself when I was driving back from Cape Cod one time. It was late and I was in a hurry to get home, and so I overcame my fear of the bridge that time and went over it, but I was so frightened that I wouldn't do it again because the saving of time wasn't worth the fright that I had to go through. This reminds me incidentally of the same kind of experience down in Yucatan and ___________. I was going to climb the __________ stairs and got up 10 or 15 steps and decided that while I wouldn't have any trouble getting up, when it came to coming down I would probably feel very frightened and decided it wasn't worth going thru all that. Then somehow or another I'm not in the cab any longer, but I'm walking on this bridge. It's dark out and I have to watch very carefully where I walk. There seems to be holes around. It's a rather rickety old bridge, part of Old Boston. There's a vague feeling that there are other people around and possibly getting ready to put on a stage production of some kind. They are rehearsing. I think there are posters, the kind you see along the New Haven railroad through Connecticut advertising the Broadway plays. Then the scene shifts again, and I'm in a kind of hospital or university setting. The point is that I am studying for a second degree, another Ph.D. This one in physiology. I'm thinking whether this means that I will have an MD or whether it will be a Ph.D. in physiology, and I decide that it will be the latter. There's something about a girl in this. A large-boned blond like the blond in the picture From Russia with Love. Very good-looking girl, and I think she's nude and somehow or another I'm focused mainly on her abdomen and belly button. There's something about a diamond shape. Diamond shape like a large square of light that's flashed on her abdomen. No particular erotic feelings, although I don't quite understand why not. Then I see the same girl and she has clothes on. She's sitting at a table as though in a cafeteria talking to this other guy, a clerk or something, who works in the hospital or university and she's very openly and candidly telling him about her latest boyfriend and different difficulties that she's having with him. I'm feeling quite envious or inadequate that she's so easy going with this guy and not with me. As I woke up, I was thinking about the impression that these two degrees would make on people. On the one hand, having two Ph.D.'s doesn't show because you only put it down once. On the other hand, it would be very impressive to the few people who would find out about it, that I got a second Ph.D. in physiology, and passed up an MD because the training for both is so close together, this would look like a very scholarly move. There was kind of a conflict going on. On the one hand, getting the Ph.D. in physiology would have been genuine on my part as would passing up the MD, but I seem to be looking around for some little grain of, some little bone to throw to narcissism in there trying to get credit for something.