i hate sundays.
fitful dreams last night. i kept dreaming that anne was angry at me, which is bad enough, but then i had this very long dream that my sister had another baby, a boy named jonathan, who died. my father accidentally stepped on his head when he was just a few days old. i had tried to get the baby out of harm's way and felt guilty that i hadn't succeeded. my sister was still in the hospital and did not seem nearly as upset as i was, as she should be. baby charlotte was confused and kept looking for jonathan, clutching the little blue sweatshirt he'd been wearing. she would talk to it, and react as if had answered. i woke up with my blanket drenched in sweat.