Trying to sleep is outright torture. After only sleeping about 3 hours
last night, I took a nap this afternoon and dreamed that Cassie was
dead, and Marcia and I were supposed to be meeting somewhere to finally
get married. I was unclogging a toilet that had overflowed and Cassie's
iPad was on the floor getting wet, and as I was trying to save it,
Marcia called and asked why I hadn't met her at the airport. She was in
Brazil, and I was supposed to be there but hadn't bought a ticket or
gotten my passport. I got off the phone and took off my shirt to mop up
the mess on the floor and my chest and stomach were covered in huge
blisters, so large they were hanging down over the waistband of my
pants.
Then I wake up, and reality isn't any better.
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