My brain just threw up all over my pillow.
After a good day in which my psychiatrist appointment ended with genuine smiles on both our faces, my mind decided to toss its cookies (and every other person, place, thing or idea it had ever met) up in my dreams.
I woke up covered in tidbits of trivia.
So, what did I do then?
Like any dyed-in-the-wool writer, I picked through all the crap looking for plot material.
I am a sick woman.