(I am still sick. I am still home from work. I want to dig through my ear into my throat. Dig.)
I think I am in psychic cahoots with Lady J because last night I, too, had a Sordid Sex Dream About A Boy. (No, I don't know which boy this may have been. No, I really don't.) I am quite proud of myself for remembering to practice safer sex in the dream, but I am a little concerned about my subconscious. I never dream about sex. (I woke up with no desire at all, probably because any shreds of libido would have been obliterated by my conscious longing to dig out the innards of my head between my ear and my throat.)
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:Reckoning watched me take a bath this morning as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. This is the first house she has lived in that has a bathtub, and this is only the second actual bath she has witnessed. She just sat in the doorway looking in with giant eyes, cocking her head every time I moved in any way.
I notice that I am becoming One Of Those Women Obsessed With Her Cats. (oh my.)
