reason number eight not to eat indian food in the middle of the night

[threeplusfire]

The dreaming was rife with madness. Early this morning, I even managed to hallucinate some quite plausible but physically impossible conversations. It's been awhile since I did that. It feels like part of my brain has been working all night long. There were the streets of New York, and the Drag, and the homeless in packs and lines on the pavement, and Gene coming to pick me up from the airport. Melynda and Rachel were playing video games, and Sam was bleeding to death, and I was trying to walk without crawling. Very, very odd.

I still feel weird. Especially now in this quiet house alone.