(no subject)

I've been having very strange, intricate dreams this week, sometimes overtly bad (zombie apocalypse, zB), sometimes just disquietingly off, but I'll wake up, then return to them with little or no change as I fall back to sleep. I know I have a tendency to try to find meaning in everything, but it's hard not to see this as some sort of pattern (and all patterns mean something).

I miss my cats fiercely. It's disorienting to wake up in a giant bed, to stretch my limbs, and feel no small, warm presences, but only fairyhead curled up at the far edge. Don't get me wrong; I love the luxurious feel of the giant (king sized) bed, but I'd love it more with my little monsters.

Three more nights, then return to the good and bad of home. I think I'm ready.