Network

My dreams and real life are now mirroring each other. I can't swim until I've been cleared by my doctor because of the ulcer. And of course I can't tell them, in real life, what brought it on, because then I'll just sound crazy. In the dream, it was HGH in one of my lotions, thanks to A. I'm just glad that didn't cross over. So of course it's taking even longer for me to be cleared. And my mom is worried that I'm under too much stress cause of the anniversary of my dad's death and school and swimming.

And if the dreams aren't messing with my real life enough, in the dreams A is messing with my relationship. I finally met Samara's friends and A made me give my number to one of them or they would release my medical records about the HGH and I can't explain to Samara why I did it.

Had some dream flashbacks, which was unexpected.

Didn't need to relive the Batarian raid on Elysium. Didn't need to relive the damned Beacon either. It jumped around a bit. Forward to Thessia, then back to the Collector ambush that killed me.

A few other memories too. I think maybe I'm stressed.

If people want to walk into my lab making absurd claims, they better be able to provide me with peer reviewed scholarly sources when challenged or be prepared to do actual research and then write me an essay on why they're wrong.

Bloody hell. I even tried to given them a way out by offering that they may be conflating issues. But no.

I am genuinely surprised that after 3 years of being gone the OC hasn't been burned to the ground yet by all these dream shenanigans.

For some strange reason, I'm finding it hard to get back into the swing of things after this three-day-weekend more than any other I've ever experienced. I'm exhausted and distracted, staying up far too late and the alarm comes far too early. Am I the only one?

Anyone on here have any sort of sway with local law enforcement? There’s a police officer interrogating my boyfriend Penny about his stab wound and we can’t really tell them “It happened in his Dreams and crossed over to here” and not have them think it’s a lie or that one or both of us are insane. Or on some type of drug.

I’m pretty sure they thought I’d done it since there was no one else in the apartment and no evidence of forced entry. Thank God I was on that early morning flight back home when it happened otherwise I’d probably be sitting in an interrogation room instead of the hospital waiting room.