Dreamt I’d been shot in the head and was undergoing invasive brain surgery. After a couple of minutes wondering why the pain didn’t go away when I woke, I realised I was having a migraine so I got up and ran downstairs to grab my magic pills from my rucsack. On the way back to bed I fell over Starlight, who wasn’t happy, and cried loudly to be let out.
I left the door ajar so she could get back in; really couldn’t be arsed getting up again a half hour later.
Thus debilitated I slept most of the morning, feeling like the pink and yellow tablets and the migraine were MMA’ing it inside my skull (sort of like a really bad hangover, mixed with the feeling of having broken glass ground into your brain) but decided to stop being a wimp and finish editing my next collection of stories.
No-one spotted that my front door was ajar from about three in the morning, so my laptop was still on the table in the front room when I dragged my moochy arse out of bed. And sitting here now, the feeling of completing the stories, and sending them off to Rapunzel to post on my website, is pretty good.