Sigh

Went to bed at a reasonable hour -- this is a new experiment, likely soon to founder on the looming necessity to produce a book, but pleasant as long as it lasts. Unfortunately, despite having gone to bed at that oh-so-reasonable hour, I am sleepy, headachy, and depressed, having been harried down the night by bad dreams. Or, rather, a single, repetitive, bad dream. It involved someone who was feeding fuzz laced with bits of rubber band to tiny kittens, which killed them. I was wandering all over campus (this of course taking place at work), trying to find justice for the victims so foully murdered -- or even anyone who cared. It was so awful that I kept waking myself up, only to nod off again, and fall precisely back into the same dream.

In retrospect, I should've just gotten up and read, but I never seem to think of that. . .