Reader: she was not fine. But after a day on the couch with the dog, I'm finally feeling better. I wanted to watch Bad Batch or something fun and easy because I felt so sick, but what I ended up doing was finally writing up something to share on facebook about Casey's passing, since his family had asked for the details and any remembrances to be shared. I feel like there was a giant egg stuck in my throat, like that bubbled up feeling of needing to cry but trying not to, and now that I said something, I can swallow again. 

I'm physically weak from the illness. I couldn't quite even sit up yesterday, but now I feel the strong need to get up and out, to go to the woods. Last night, I had more weird dreams: that I was in a dream-correspondence with someone, but knew all the while that they hated me in waking life. (That one seems a little obvious.) There was another one that I lived in a little cottage in the woods with a fireplace, and it was Christmas. Another one was about a woman I knew here in town who doesn't like me anymore. In the dream, we were trying to use the same vending machine, and I was trying to make it not awkward, apologizing for the dislike, and trying to get out of the way.