One of the by-products of sleeping an hour or two at a time (if you're lucky) each night is that your dreams come in the form of rapid-fire, hyper-vivid blasts on the walls of your brain.
At differing points last night, I was sure that I was playing drums for My Chemical Romance and, more memorably, naked in bed with Katee Sackhoff.
Maybe I could get used to this after all.
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