Sunday, August 5, 2012

August 5, 1991


I go to bed about 9 on Sunday but experience a very restless night.  I keep imagining a prowler lurking on the patio.  All this news about the Dahmer case has me thinking about the Hillside Strangler's modus operandi.  Even after I close and lock the sliding-glass door -- and check to make sure the garage door is closed -- I still can't sleep peacefully.  And what bizarre dreams.  A small parking garage turns into an auto demolition factory.  Andy screams out to me for help and shrinks to Tiny-Time size proportions in the process.

I am able to achieve a sustained level of energy during the workday.  I even stay past six to complete the first phase of my 1992 budget deliberations.  The highlight of the day is having the boys greet me when I return home for lunch.

That evening Andy and I do the weekly grocery shopping.  JoAnna's in bed and asleep when we return home, so husband and wife, after a 5-day separation, have no chance to talk.

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