Do you dream in theory?

So my essay this week is on Derrida, and for the last three or four days I've been painfully sawing through sections of Of Grammatology, Margins of Philosophy, Glas, and the Ear of the Other (not to mention the sea of secondary sources that attempt to explain Derrida). Unfortunately, I haven't hit anything that I can actually make sense of. So in exhaustion and exasperation, I call it a day and decide to take up the search for sense tomorrow. But I cannot escape him—I begin to actually dream about Derrida.

He's at my house (except it doesn't look like my house) and we're making lunch. As my mom brings out sandwich meat and bread, I address Derrida and say, "Mr. Foucault, would you like any mustard on your sandwich?"—I then realize the grave mistake that I've committed. "Oh, excuse me, Derrida. Derrida. Mr. Derrida."

"If I want to be called 'Mr. Foucault'," he says, "I would have dressed myself in childish clothes and a fish." I am confused, but do not dare ask for clarification for fear that he will begin to "speak, therefore, of a letter," and describe the différance between things spelled "with an e" and things spelled "with an a".

My life is ruined.