I had a bad time of it last night. Going on two weeks now, I haven't felt right. I think though I don't talk about it that I haven't been right since I found out about Mrs. Mark.
Lately I have been awakened in the middle of the night by Jonah's frights. I have to turn on the lights to check on him, and this normally wakes me up thoroughly. I can't not check on him because the thought that he might have hurt himself keeps me awake. Last night he was on the perch and the other two were on the floor, looking frightened. Why's my bird have to be such a pain in the ass? Why do I love him almost more than any other living thing?
And I don't dream in my sleep so much as think, and it's never of anything calming: either of an error in one of my projects, or something just gruesome.