Doing a bunk. Genuinely at odds with my gut and other organs, but mostly I suspect the stress just decided to kernel panic and data dump. Dreaming about drips and floods in the house. Walking along the hallway, my feet and ankles warm and heavy in a layer of warmth that turned into water pouring over the wood. A kitchen tap draining unstoppably. Walking around a city in a downpour, Chicago for some reason, found something valuable, gloves perhaps, near a car. Was going to keep them, but I felt others watching, and I put them into the car. Woke, or not quite, to a flood of my own. Cleaned up and snarled at D and struggled back to bed and an uneasy sleep.
Got up when the alarm chimed. Hugged D and apologized, he encouraged me to call in sick. Apparently I look as bad as I feel. No big chores today. Hanging with the cat, drinking tea, reading about the New Madrid earthquake and the history in that time and place. Cat has claimed my robe, so I'm using D's big blue one.
Above my head, our art project of the weekend, more of our postcards, collected over the years.