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.