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July
27
Working
around
the
clock
.
Over
Fay
’
s
protests
,
I
’
ve
had
a
cot
moved
into
the
lab
.
She
’
s
become
too
pos
sessive
and
resentful
of
my
work
.
I
think
she
could
tolerate
another
woman
,
but
not
this
complete
absorption
in
something
she
can
’
t
follow
.
I
was
afraid
it
would
come
to
this
,
but
I
have
no
patience
with
her
now
.
I
’
m
jealous
of
every
moment
away
from
the
work
—
impatient
with
any
one
who
tries
to
steal
my
time
.
Though
most
of
my
writing
time
is
spent
on
notes
which
I
keep
in
a
separate
folder
,
from
time
to
time
I
have
to
put
down
my
moods
and
thoughts
out
of
sheer
habit
.
The
calculus
of
intelligence
is
a
fascinating
study
.
In
a
sense
this
is
the
problem
I
’
ve
been
concerned
with
all
my
life
.
Here
is
the
place
for
the
application
of
all
the
knowl
edge
I
have
acquired
.
Time
assumes
another
dimension
now
—
work
and
absorption
in
the
search
for
an
answer
.
The
world
around
me
and
my
past
seem
far
away
and
distorted
,
as
if
time
and
space
were
taffy
being
stretched
and
looped
and
twisted
out
of
shape
.
The
only
real
things
are
the
cages
and
the
mice
and
the
lab
equipment
here
on
the
fourth
floor
of
the
main
building
.
There
is
no
night
or
day
.
I
’
ve
got
to
cram
a
lifetime
of
research
into
a
few
weeks
.
I
know
I
should
rest
,
but
I
can
’
t
until
I
know
the
truth
about
what
is
happening
.
Alice
is
a
great
help
to
me
now
.
She
brings
me
sand
wiches
and
coffee
,
but
she
makes
no
demands
.
About
my
perception
:
everything
is
sharp
and
clear
,
each
sensation
heightened
and
illuminated
so
that
reds
and
yellows
and
blues
glow
.
Sleeping
here
has
a
strange
effect
.
The
odors
of
the
laboratory
animals
,
dogs
,
monkeys
,
mice
,
spin
me
back
into
memories
,
and
it
is
difficult
to
know
whether
I
am
experiencing
a
new
sensation
or
recalling
the
past
.
It
is
impossible
to
tell
what
proportion
is
memory
and
what
exists
here
and
now
—
so
that
a
strange
com
pound
is
formed
of
memory
and
reality
;
past
and
present
;
response
to
stimuli
stored
in
my
brain
centers
,
and
re
sponse
to
stimuli
in
this
room
.
It
’
s
as
if
all
the
things
I
’
ve
learned
have
fused
into
a
crystal
universe
spinning
before
me
so
that
I
can
see
all
the
facets
of
it
reflected
in
gorgeous
bursts
of
light
.
.
.
.
A
monkey
sitting
in
the
center
of
his
cage
,
staring
at
me
out
of
sleepy
eyes
,
rubbing
his
cheeks
with
little
old
-
man
shriveled
hands
.
.
.
chee
.
.
.
cheee
.
.
.
cheeeee
.
.
.
and
bouncing
off
the
cage
wire
,
up
to
the
swing
overhead
where
the
other
monkey
sits
staring
dumbly
into
space
.
Urinating
,
defecating
,
passing
wind
,
staring
at
me
and
laughing
.
.
.
cheeee
.
.
.
cheeeee
.
.
.
cheeeee
.
.
.
.
