bedroom of my dreams

... those dreams of a Zimbabwe in rubble, that is. It's difficult to believe I used to sleep in here.

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And yes, they've trashed the courtyard. Behold the before-and-after:

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Now I shall flee the cacophony of the house in order to spend a day in the cacophony of registration, persuading willful students not to sign up for underwater basket-weaving, with a brief break in the middle during which I shall go to survey wolverine_nun's new office and attempt to soak up the aura of the possibility of a permanent post. Wish me luck.