I am at home with Babs & the pooch, and there is a kind of a shellshocked quality to my consciousness. I feel kind of like my brain is on autopilot.
Part of it is that my handy-dandy responses to certain events in my life are being short-curcuited by my attempts at being enlightened.
Which led to some major-league tortured dreams last night. Savage, brutal, violent dreams. I had a javelin run through my body, and I brutally savaged a couple of burglars to the point where I had to try and put what was left of them into garbage bags. Woke up drenched with fear-sweat. Broadly uncomfortable.