Josh took Oliver to therapy, which gave me some quiet time in bed. I've needed that so much more lately...just time to organize my thoughts or simple accept them. I don't know why that has become so important lately.
It's like floating on my back in a lake. Stars surround me, but they're not real. The think seems to start automatically. Some of the thoughts--supposed memories, bizarre plans, and imagined conversations--slip through and seem fine.
My thoughts are already getting weird.
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