The dream I had last night: I was in my kitchen, and a black cat was toying with a mouse in the corner (we have a black cat; this wasn't her). I kept trying to get around the cat to see the mouse, but it somehow kept its back turned to me; I finally tried to chase it away, but a palpable sensation of dread drove me off. (In retrospect, the cat's identity seems obvious.)
The reality: Darin called me to say that Bobbi is continuing to improve; there's a real chance I may get to speak to her tonight.
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Apparently, the Ativan she's taking is messing with her memory, but right now, that seems like nothing, nothing at all.