This morning I woke at 5 am after a long, detailed, extended, vivid, protracted dream in which people who were something between zombies and hired assassins were tracking me. Probably it only actually took place in my brain for five seconds, or maybe five minutes. It felt like hours. I woke exhausted and scared.
I couldn’t get back to sleep right away, so I set my kindle to low light and read for a while, trying not to disturb Pea. I could invite an elephant to tea at the foot of the bed and not disturb Pea, but it is nice to make an effort when it is oh-dark-and-foolish o’clock.
The book I am reading is by David Sedaris, and is his usual collection of odd anecdotes and self-indulgent musings that somehow manage to make me rethink my angle on life on each page. The story I read, while scared of zombies and other nameless things, was about buying his boyfriend a human skeleton for his birthday, and subsequently being haunted by it and its moral of mortality for the next few months.
Not helpful, David.
I did eventually get back to sleep. I woke to the alarm, panicked, deep in the middle of the SAME DREAM. Come on zombies, I’m not going to get out of the car (and then I did and had to run). I’m not going to go get trapped in the attic (but then I did, and had to think about jumping). I don’t believe in zombies! Especially not nattily dressed, creepily silent zombies! Stop following me!
In other news, the two week wait sucks, even when it’s not even two weeks (blood test on July 6th). Scant spotting on Saturday. Vague cramps at various times. Fatigue. Shut up body.
Also, the progesterone shots into my butt mean I wake up every morning feeling like I did a solid workout and my glutes are lightly aching in the aftermath. So for a few moments I feel self-congratulatory on my fitness, before remembering I have, in fact, done no such thing.