I haven’t sat down and talked deeply about my dreams again. and i wont, obviously. Nothing has really changed. i still wake up with the same fear, the same frustration, and the same sweat, staring at the ceiling as if it might explain why my own brain has decided sleep should feel like a second shift of work. frustrating. Dont get me started with these wrist restraints, i feel rather like a trapped monster. but you know, i have to sleep with them. otherwise, eventually, i might become my own worst enemy. i still cant figure out whats the deal with me in that matter, i doubt i ever will. my brain enjoys giving me problems without providing the courtesy of a conclusion. anyway, i have work to do. there are things to finish, people to bother, decisions to make and an entire company waiting for me to pretend i know what im doing. Before that, though. there is something unrelated that i have been thinking about. why do spoons always disappear? seriously, i can know exactly where a whole set of spoons is, then somehow end up with two by the next time i see them. i live in a house, not a spoon rehabilitation centre, for gods sake. Anyway, im going to work.
Sincerely, Slightly concerned.