I tend to like some sorts of nightmares, but what I've been experiencing the past few nights (due, I believe, to the stress in my life) have been enough to make me rethink my stance.  I used to use them as fuel for my stories.  No more.  I was up at three a.m., and I could not get back to sleep. 

The only plus side is that one led me to some wonderful insight into how to deal with a situation I am in now. 

I dread this day ... for many reasons.

I've been watching my daughter's fish most of the morning.  I find it relaxing.  Had some coffee on the deck in the dark.  It was wonderful.  Peaceful.  It was like the world was a tomb, an effect randomly marred by the passing of some poor soul on their way to work.  It made me think of a time before cars, cell phones, fax machines, supermarkets, computers -- all those things that have made us soft. 

Worked on the manuscript last night (my plans had changed on me).  I want this published, I want to write the next one.  I have no idea what it will be yet (my mind is too into this one), but I hope it will be worthy of my time. 

6:15.  Been up for almost three hours.  Have to work eight hours.  Should be a marvelous day. 

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