I slept well. I had a long dream that I was running around midtown with three fifty dollar bills and a couple of singles in my wallet, looking for a copy of the newly-published Love Life vocal score. Every place I went was sold out. I finally got to a rather seedy shop that was mostly a porn shop, and the clerk kept trying to sell me a copy of the vocal selections. A Broadway conductor I'm not particularly fond of came in ad purchased a large pack of blank orchestra score paper. I was curious, and, along with several annoyed looks, told me it was a gift for a friend.