Last night I had a nightmare. So I screamed (LOUDLY) to wake myself (and Preston and the cat and half the eastern seaboard) up and out of the dream.
Preston: what happened?
me: I had a nightmare.
Preston: holy crap.
Meowsie, who likes to sleep under my chin, sat on the floor looking at me and refused to get back in the bed. She may never sleep with us again (so I'll be able to move in my sleep again instead of waking up stiff afraid to move in case I wake the cat up).
I'm not sure what caused the nightmare. It was either watching 48 Hours: Hard Evidence or the numerous commercials throughout with Joel Osteen and Oprah. Preston was appalled at the commercial and declared it completely stupid each time it came on, so it truly could have been either that or the grisly murder described in detail on 48 Hours that gave me the nightmare. Just to be sure, I'm going to stay away from the Oprah network before bed. The eastern seaboard will sleep better.
Probably about Hillary.
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