Wandering blues.

Last night I lived the story and woke myself up from a nightmare. An honest, deeply unpleasant dream that turned terrifying to me right at the end of it, and the instant the man put his hands on my hair in the dream, I woke up. The whole suddenly opening my eyes, totally awake, hitching in a quiet gasp - it was all there. The only reason I didn't sit straight up from the waist is because I sleep on my stomach, but other than that, it was basically as it's shown on TV. And with a little less shouting. Still. In retrospect, that was genuinely interesting to have happened.

Last night I also went to a friend's place across town, for an hour, on a night I could've otherwise stayed in and done the usual rounds of writing and TV watching. Except I went out instead. I don't think I'll do that too often - but having done it once, I know I can do it again. And I wouldn't have been able to do that comfortably a few years ago.