March 16th, 2026. Unabated.

Last night it was zombies. I NEVER dream about zombies! The night before it was more mom-house nightmares, but I can't bring any of them back enough to tell the tale. I'd been repeating little reminder words all day yesterday and then got distracted and now they're all gone. But last night, t'was zombies.

I think it was in my mom's backyard, but at least they weren't inside the house. 

We started off in a theatre of some sort and I feel like we'd just weathered some sort of assault and were relaxing just as warning of yet another wave was coming in. We had time to grab shoes and socks (I think this has been something of an obsession while Kristen's been binge-watching Miami Vice - HOW CAN THEY RUN IN THOSE BOATSHOES SANS SOCKS!) and then we were off to some sort of tree fort (yep, definitely my mom's backyard, but as I knew it as a child). I think eventually we were hanging from some sort of rope construction, you know, like you build to protect your sandwiches from bears? And I woke up just as the zombies were beginning to explore the prospects of climbing on the neighbour's sheds...

Last night it'd been my intention NOT to have codeine before bed but after an evening of Crockett, Tubbs and coughing I figured I wasn't breaking away from that shit quite yet. I'm on my last day of antibiotics and though I'm TIRED and probably need a little more sleep today, I'm feeling almost human. Kristen's gonna call her primary because if anything, she's been far WORSE the last couple of days.

But I don't want to jinx it. I'm not going to talk about it. I'm going to relax, just one more day, and watch the storms roll in.

An old photo from 1983 of my grandmother and me and my brother up in the treehouse that my dad built in the backyard. This was not at ALL like it was in my dream but looking at the photo - a) until we stumbled across this pic in a box in my mother's garage I had no memory of, nor ability to imagine, my grandmother climbing up into our treehouse, b) the permanently installed ladder would obviously be a terrible idea in the event of zombies, c) the visceral memory of the feeling of that ladder against my hands is a welcome and REAL thing from my childhood and d) the black part of the right-hand tree of the treehouse is where that tree was blasted by lightning that also traveled up the clothes line to the house and blasted the screen door on the back porch.