In the mornings now, I awaken with a jolt, some wild ride whirring to a bumpy stop. I have been far away, hunting for some treasure, some glittering clue to the nature of my travels, but I don’t know what it means. Sure, I open my eyes and pad off to the bathroom, but being awake is a distraction and I know somewhere I have work to do that waits until I fall asleep again. By lunchtime, I’d make to do lists if I had any idea where to go or what to do.

Time feels like it’s turned inside out. I’m off to bed, hoping I’m dressed for the ride.