La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams

No. 113: April 1972

The report

I have an extremely important task to finish, and, to do it, I’ve set up at P.’s. I’ve used the big table to spread out all the papers I need to write a large report I have to hand in the next morning.

Actually, I’m not working. There are lots of other people at P.’s too and working would be difficult.

At one point, I take a walk with C.F., whom I haven’t seen in a long time. I kiss her behind the ear. She asks me whether she should interpret that gesture as meaning that we have “come together.” I deny the thought immediately and explain to her the changes that have taken place in my life.

We walk into a medieval courtyard. At the foot of a cathedral stands a Gothic construction, recognizable by its flying buttresses and lancet arch windows. I point out a window to her, saying I live there. She answers:

“But that’s at least the fifth floor!”

“No,” I say, “it’s the ground floor.” But, even as I say these words, I feel deeply troubled, since, indeed, from the outside, it’s indisputably much higher than the ground floor.

I have returned to P.’s and gone to sleep, even though lots of people are still coming and going in the apartment. I tell myself I’ll have time, if I get up in the middle of the night, to finish my report for tomorrow. After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this; on the contrary, I’m quite used to doing it.

I take stock of everything I have to write. This report is about a product (something like “Perspirex” or “Respirex,” it seems to me that, give or take a letter, it has the name of a product that actually exists) that has been tested on a cruise. I’ve made a list of everything I need to say. At some moments, it seems like I’m almost done, that nothing will get in my way; at others, I realize with despair that I haven’t even finished with the second point on my list (of more than a hundred).

It was Patrice who assigned me this task. At some other point, I had gone down to call him and promised him my report the next day at 9 p.m. That’s already much later than the time we had initially agreed on. Patrice accepted (in all projects like this, it’s a given that they’ll be done at the last minute and they’re programmed accordingly), but it’s getting less and less likely that I’ll make it in time …