Aha! Torments to Join!

Valancy has a compelling and well-substantiated theory that when women undergo periods of stress they either (a) cut their hair very short or (b) put their hair up. It is perhaps a reflection of today's mood that I have managed to force my already-short hair into a chignon.

I slept very oddly last night.

In the normal run of things, I am an exceptionally light sleeper. Someone rolls over in the same room as me, and I wake up. Someone gets up on the other side of the house, and I sometimes go to see what the matter is. Living in a dorm was hellish. I wake easily.

Not so of last night, when I slept the sleep of the dead. Valancy was actually worried for a while, because I didn't move, even when she called to me and walked around. Periodically, I muttered comments about sitting on the supreme court, but that was the extent of it.

My dreams were many and strange, most of them involving interactive museums.

Uncle Rex and I theorize that the world is going through an incredibly important period of change – a paradigm shift. The recent acts of terrorism did not cause this reorganization, but are merely a reflection of the current instability. At this point, it is impossible to tell whether it is titanomachia or simply a decent into chaos. I lean toward the former, but I am a confirmed optimist.

At least I haven't been called yet as a paraclete; I'm so tired of being fate's go-between. I don't even believe in fate, damnit! I suppose I should, given the evidence I regularly receive – inflexible thought is the definition of insanity. Then again, delusions of grandeur and delusions of reference are strong signs of schizophrenia. Double bind.

I'm fine. Just kinda shaky. I don't even know why all of this is coming up.