I had my first Happy Thanksgiving call from a friend at 4 a.m. this morning. "Who IS this?" I asked, groggy. "Heeeeeyyyy! Cam!" he said, "It's ________." I said, "Okay, ________, I was sleeping. I'll call you later okay?" It sounded like he was at a really busy bar or something.
Then I had a nightmare about my son, with my son's face taking shape as a wizened old man's face. He was my son, but in an old man's soul, and things had taken a toll on him even though he tried, on the outside, to be agreeable and happy. I told him I would see him really soon, and his eyes lit up with hope. Then, I looked at how sad he was and said I was going to come right away and stay and he could live with me again. Then I woke up and realized it was a dream and that I couldn't go anywhere, because CPS and Wenatchee had left me no choice. To go back would be the quickest way to self-sabotage and end up in their hands again. I and my son were going to have to wait.
I woke up, and played Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" first thing this morning. And I'm getting ready to write a ton of TTSOMLs and finish up today.
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