I am about to have a baby: distressed and ambivalent. I go to Gene Sloan -- he is wearing a blue sweater. He advises me I should have an abortion; I have made plane reservations to N.Y. or S.F., where it would be easy to get an abortion. I call my brother; I try to talk to Cindy, but she is busy. I am looking for the butter: I find it in a purple holder like at Cannon's Motel. Frank says, very quietly, "Why not go through with it?" I am undecided. At the airport I see a plate with a drawing on it: pictures of Child Development. ending in graduation! I fear I will have a feeble-minded child, but I decide to cancel the plane, and I drive home and have the baby. Anyhow... I think to myself, there was no way to know how far along I was, since I no longer have periods. Finally I get a call from an air line employee -- "Can I change your reservation? We have a flight at 7:30." I ask "What time is it?" "7:30"... Awaken, relieved.