I m from CI~cago originally. I went to New York， married a girl named Anne， and<br >was in the middle of living happily ever after when something happened. I didn t<br >know what it was， and if you would have asked me at the time I would have said<br >nothing， that nothing was happening， because for me nothing was. I was standing in<br >a convenience store next to a gas station along a picturesque parkway in New Jersey.<br >I was perusing the assorted candies and snacks， debating with myself what to bring<br >back to Anne. She was waiting in the car. We were driving to her mother s house and<br >I was probably reading the labels， looking for something nutritious to eat. Although<br >it wasn t a dream， the unnatural light of the convenience store made it seem as ifI was<br >existing in the world of a dream， the main difference being that， unlike a dreamworld，<br >in this world， the convenience store world， nothing much was happening.<br > That s not right. It was all happening， I just wasn t seeing it. I wasn t seeing it<br >because my attention was absorbed by walls of refrigerated cases and the aisles of<br >bright displays. I was concentrating on all the possible choices， which， after a while，<br >I d narrowed down to a thin pack of peanuts， a protein-style candy bar， and a so-called<br >energy drink. When I paid the cashier I didn t notice the rings on the woman s fingers，<br >and I didn t count my change.