I had a dream right before I woke up at 8:00 this morning that a little kid was running towards me up a dark flight of stairs, screaming in a godawful voice. He had a knife, and sounded kind of like a cat. Meg was already at work and Danny didn't sleep here last night, so no one was home when I woke up. It was marginally light outside, a grey sort of ambivalent post-sunrise , and I couldn't tell if it was 8 a.m. or 8 p.m. for a minute or two. Then I turned on the TV and there were all sorts of morning shows on, so I went back to bed for another hour. When I woke up at 9:00, I woke myself up saying, "Your skin doesn't fit", no joke. Sucks to be my brain right now.
I cleaned a little. I have things to do today, and I feel weird.
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