squirrel_themed_anxiety raze a little less than a week ago, somewhere between awake_and_dreaming, i convinced myself there was a squirrel in my bedroom. a brown one. we don't have any of those around here. but i know what i saw. one thing troubled me. there was an open bottle of water beside my bed. squirrels get thirsty just like the rest of us. i screwed the cap back on halfway. better to be safe. a few nights later, i had a split_second waking dream. an acorn looped around me before it disappeared, chased by a thin string of dull gold. "not that," i said to the lonely light show. "please, not that." there wasn't the same kind of disquiet i usually have to deal with in the thick of a pre-sleep panic attack. just a sense of impending loss. an outgrowth of worrying about these small friends when all the lights are switched on inside my mind. my stomach sank when i saw what i thought was blood on charlene's head the other day. it was only a bit of home she brought here with her. a bud that fell from a tree and parked itself between her ears. so. dehydrated interlopers and arcing acorns. hell, i'll take that over thinking i'm dying all the time. at least the fear is attached to something i love. 220926 what's it to you? who go blather from