flemmings | (no subject)

Usually when I wake at my usual time, which is 9:15, I will roll over and go back for another hour or two because nothing these days is as pleasurable as warmth and oblivion and the occasional morning dream. And I would have done that today in order to continue the dream of being a young Jewish woman in some undefined country where traditional customs still had some sway, trying to convince her ardent suitor that really, she wasn't into marrying him no matter how much he serenaded her from rooftops or whatever it was, because a lot of other now-vanished stuff was going on as well. But then it turned into a very-much-me in my classic nightmare situation of having murdered someone, and this time it was three very real babies from work though from different decades, whose throats I'd cut in a horribly vivid fashion. Even awake and doing my 'no you didn't' routine I couldn't convince myself that no I didn't, so I had to get up and let reality assert itself.

Reality is an inch or so of snow, so even though my Good Neighbour had cleared my walkways even at that early-to-me hour, I shall be staying in and not going to laundromats or coffee houses.