So I’m still having weird anxiety dreams, when I don’t have total insomnia. Last night there was a bad guy who was taking other people’s stuff (because they “owed” him) and storing it at our house (including a tractor, a massive travel trailer and so on. This was the house I grew up in on the ranch). One of his men took a liking to my son (not in that way) which helped us get away in the end. Somehow, a small pig got involved, as did another family and there were guns and threatening and the main thing I wake up with is that baby pigs can’t have their pens in the house with the dogs and on the hardwood floor. Yeah. That really is an odd take away. For the record, I did raise piglets as a kid, so this was a fairly accurate dream as far as that went, and I already knew that about piglets and doglets.
Also my temperature keeps fluctuating ridiculously, and I won’t go into yesterday’s not feeling good. So I guess it’s time to call the doc. I’m staring at the phone now trying to convince myself it isn’t stupid to just do it.
In the meantime, I’ve been poking at the WIP with a sharp stick.