Now, going back to remember Monday is a bit difficult. What I do remember are the dreams during the fourteen hour sleep on the couch after speaking with CH on the phone. The last thing in my follow-up email to her was, ’sweet dreams.’ My dreams that night were horrific, first a scene in which I tried to prevent someone from committing suicide as she climbed high up on the roof above. In the next dream I was fighting to defend a child by slamming an attacker in the head with a wooden rod as they stood unaffected… Each time I gathered up the strength to strike, it had the same feeble result – exactly none, except the abductor turned his head slightly to one side. Today we worked in Hawthorne, the location closest to our El Segundo base, and the closest I got to the spot where Paris Chitlin is incarcerated. I don’t remember much about the day or that anything of note occurred that evening. Mondays are our Fridays, so release from work signaled the all clear… Time for a bit of laundry? I think so.
