Shit, I totally forgot. I should have shot you a text or something. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that these dreams apparently aren't just dreams. There's still a part of me that's trying to convince myself that someone just broke into my apartment to shoot me. I'm out now. Actually starting back at work next week, though just as a fucking desk jockey. Ugh.
That's... Actually not a terrible idea. I imagine I'll be stuck with paperwork until I'm actually well enough to get back in the field, so maybe I'll try adopting that tactic and hope the Chief doesn't yell at me.