Memory felled by the fever dream of a multitudinous reality comes to rest. Narrative's split consciousness says it is the "everybody" that you are not like in all the names you give your thoughts and the one name you give yourself. Golub recreates the traditional family gathering at which fictional characters are seated who test the integrity of "us' and so of "I" in memory. Did ritualized identity trouble the very origins it proclaimed? Did these troublings reveal themselves in the form of Golub's OCD rituals and cancer's recurrence? The brokenness that life inflicts is here not a final undoing but a continually being undone, the redoing of being undone in different names, different voices, and different selves that are always the same self.