It was nothing she hadn't already heard, or told herself, really - because she tended to bungee between the I'm not crazy and it's not stupid it's just a thing that happened and it'll go away and the this is stupid, just get over it, there's something wrong with you if you can't just get over it pretty regularly.
It was hard not to - when she felt like she was handling things well, it was easier to be more positive about it. When she wasn't, it just seemed really stupid and crazy. Still, it helped to hear it from someone else. For now, at least. She was pretty sure it would all be confusing and ridiculous later, again, but at the moment, it helped.
His points about taking things slow and eating things were pretty good, too, but at the moment eating was last on her priority list. Being able to wake up without tweaking out was a little bit more important.
She reached out with one hand to abduct a pen off the desk, fidgeting with it in that really intent way that was supposed to look absent. It was just a way to not be looking at him when she talked (not that she didn't want to look at him... okay, enough, Kat, come on).
"What about, I mean. When I wake up I'm not always entirely sure what's going on. Or, I guess, I'm pretty sure I know what's going on, but it's not what's actually real." The words were quick, almost rushed, and she glanced at him for a second, then started twisting at the pen with both hands, unscrewing it and taking it apart. "I mean, it's probably bad if I wake up and I think I'm gonna be eating faces for breakfast, right?" The pen in tiny pieces now, Kat shrugged, almost flippant again. "That's probably not a good sign."