Waiting out the Weekend (Perchance to Dream)

Oh, how horrible.
You'd think that someone like me would be thrilled to spend today, this dreary New England day, the Thursday before SuperBowl (or, as I think of it, Potential Riot Sunday), indoors, in a mediocre, yet comfortable office chair (forest green, swivel, fully adjustable), hiding from the little nature that there is out there.
You'd think that, and you'd be mostly correct. What is not said, is that if this were undergrad, I would SO be skipping class tonight. The thought of spending two and a half hours alert is about to break me down into my elemental pieces. Who says that to dream is to be unengaged? I promise, I'll dream of the various relationships between texts and contexts, and rhetorics of the body.
A dream in Japanese is "Yume." Yume is also a girl's name, as is "yumi" and "Ayumi." I don't know what either of those mean. To dream in French is "Rever." Tonight is last Saturday's FullMetal Alchemist and Ghost in the Shell. "Ghost in the Machine" is the term for our fears about communication, and "Rage Against the Machine" is a term for a band that fears Ghosts, Shells, and systems.
3 and a half hours to go. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. There are more things to think of on a Thursday, Chibi-chan, than we dream of in classes about philosophy.