As a side note,
I did, however, sleep like a rock last night. I dreamt a little too. And instead of dreams of horrible feel-real life scenarios with people I know too well and being followed by ravens who act as my dream guide or holding positions of overwhelming responsibility in large scale disasters or anything spy related, I had a dream I was on a farm. In like, the mountains of Pennsylvania somewhere during winter. And the farmer’s son was Chris Hemsworth before fame and I was a photographer visiting from the city, contracted to do a shoot with some douche bag pretty boy.
I end up ditching that job to take pictures of the farmers son while he was working. In the snow. And he teaches me how to throw an axe and we become bffs and laugh over mulled wine as we’re ice fishing in the frozen lake by their farm.