D O C U M E N T 5 6 S E P T E M B E R 1 9 2 7 6 9 Weyl’s[7] son tells me a few dreams almost every day. But I often suspect that they invent their dreams beforehand and thus my interpretation is left hanging. I have arrived at the point where I lie in bed and the lamp stings [my eyes] I toss and turn, whimper, wish the school would go to hell. I roll around for ten minutes. I’m very sleepy and estimate the sleep deficit at four hours. The alarm clock rings loudly and threateningly. Mother[8] and maid take turns shouting. Finally, hope- lessly too late, I lurch out of bed and tumble into the bathroom. I stick the wet wash- cloth four or five times into my eyes, which peer gloomily and hardly notice. I idly splash away the rest of the time. I spend minutes trying to part my hair. I creep into my clothes. I pick up the newspaper and try to decipher it. With time slipping away, I begin chewing and swallow two pieces of bread, slurp cocoa. I’m not awake yet. Now I escape. The way to school. It’s a thing in itself. No minor thing. On every street corner there is danger. There are many people to be avoided, whose boring prattle would crush me. Some of them don’t like to walk with me, nor I with them. They are eas- ily avoided. They have the characteristic of looking down at the ground or far off to the side. I also do that. I have great abilities in that regard. There are some who want to walk with me, and I don’t want to walk with them. They are tiresome to deal with. Sometimes, when one is walking behind them, they stop and wait, and it is hard to ignore them. They come up and are loquacious and limited. Then there are those with whom it is pleasant to talk, and those who are pleasant to look at. There’s an art to shaping a way to school in an entertaining way. The way to school crucially determines the mood of the whole day. Finally the school heaves into view. Classmates gaze out of windows on the sec- ond floor. Our room is there. When they see me, they shout “Samuel,”[9] and I laugh sheepishly. Everyone calls me “Samuel.” They’re always looking out of the window, because from there they can see the girls hurrying to their school. I also always look. We call out to some of them and hide behind the sill. We know all their names. Some of them make a long detour around our school building. I will continue this letter another time and let the rest of the day emerge. But not before I’m holding in my hand something you have written. My homework for to- day is lost. Tomorrow we have an English and natural history exercise. Consider the sacrifice. Best wishes to everyone, for example Margot and Frau Mendel, whose letter I will answer as soon as I can, your wife,[10] and you. Your Teddy
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