i'm beginning to develop and hearty dislike of 4 am.
what is it about the middle of the night that attracts all those harpies of anxiety who come and perch in your mind and poke you with sharp sticks? all the things that seem copable or at least overcomable in the light of day suddenly grow fangs and become intolerably worrying in the dark.
even my familiar, toby cat, seems to have deserted me tonight and i am powerless against the demons. a few more hours and things should look better