Sleepless
My worst dreams are never the nightmares that leave me feeling thoroughly unsettled for days after, where the amorphous, unstated fears and anxieties I try not to address in waking decide to wreak havoc in my sleep. No, my worst dreams are the ones that are objectively normal in every sense of the term, because they're of a reality that I desperately wish were mine. I dream about being happy, and most prominently, about being easy friends with my roommates. All of them, even Dave, who in life is on the extremely short list of people I actively dislike. I dream about laughing, about sharing meals, about sitting outside and watching the antics of the dogs. One such dream played out last night. The two details that stand out in my memory are of watching Morris (the chihuahua puppy that Curly and Favorite Person are fostering at present [I don't feel comfortable using an inclusive "we" here because those two are doing all the work {I'm somewhere between annoyed and hu...

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