Bleh. I woke up at like 2:30AM and couldn’t get back to sleep. The dream I had is still kicking around the back of my head, maybe writing about it will let me go back to slumberland.
Though honestly probably just crawling out of bed to pee would help a lot too.
Anyway. I was in my childhood house, with my mother and my sister. At least I think she was my sister. I didn’t have a sister in the real world, but there she was in my dream. And there was this guy prowling around outside the place with a sniper rifle, looking for us. If he saw me he was going to shoot me, so it was crucial that I stay out of his line of sight.
Except when he did see me he just threatened me.
And at one point I opened the front door when I was pretty sure he was around the back and hollered something incoherent out at him.
Lots of brooding menace and curling up in the central parts of the house, out of sight. Not a fun dream. When I woke up I went hunting for Zoya, who turned out to be under a pillow. (Zoya is a plush t-rex who I cuddle as I’m going to sleep a lot of nights. I say it’s her job to eat any nightmares that come my way.)
I wonder if the general anxiety came from healing today’s chunk of tattoo. Well, yesterday’s now I guess. It’s largely done; there’s still some empty spaces due to the tattooist erring on the side of caution in a few places while filling in this stupidly complicated design, and of course there’s the UV ink at the end of it all. But it’s damn close. I should post some photos, I haven’t in a while.