Mar. 18th, 2020

fox: picasso's don quixote, very small. (don. sancho.)
This morning I got up at about 4:30 to use the bathroom, and when I went back to bed I had the following terrible dream.

CW: Corona, sexual assault )

then I woke up with a splitting headache and as is so often the case with the worst dreams, it took a minute before I worked out that none of this had happened. I told Himself about the dream, and he was appropriately sympathetic, and later on when we were downstairs I told the prince I'd woken up with a headache and he said "Oh I'm sorry Mommy! I can give you a hug and kiss, that will help!" which is totally true, and by now (couple of hours vertical, half an episode of Buffy - so about 22 minutes - on the elliptical, one cup of coffee) the headache is mostly gone. But, you know: I can't live with this kind of anxiety the whole time we're on plague watch. If this goes on longer than the initial couple-few weeks we're looking at right now - and it will - the tension is going to have to ease up or that's going to be more dangerous to me than anything else. :-/

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fox: my left eye.  "ceci n'est pas une fox." (Default)
fox

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