The slight loosening of my grip on reality is one of the more interesting features of being sick; It is, I imagine, the reason people choose to use hallucinogens. Some times it's kind of amusing, this time it doesn't really seem to be so. Now the three hours of rest that I got while having this dream were handy, but a three hour dream consisting entirely of a conversation about paint wasn't all that gripping. Perhaps it's getting "better" though. I glanced over and saw two pinkish, flesh toned plastic easter eggs lying on the ground half obscured by the garbage can. Only for at least a minute or two I couldn't see two easter eggs, instead I saw the head of some massive pink dildo. Given the sexual orientations and genders of all members of this house it was hard to imagine why 1) there would be a dildo - especially of these dimenisions - in the house and 2) why it would be casually stored on the floor next to the garbage can in the computer area.
Another side affect of being sick appears to be sharing too much information with the rest of the world.
