Dear Wigleaf,

It's 3:28 a.m., and it's been three weeks since I've been able to sleep through the night. There aren't any crying babies in this household anymore, nor teenagers stumbling up the dark stairs after being out with friends. No, just a restless middle-aged woman with far too much on her mind—you know, all those existential questions like how can my life already be half over when there's still so much to do.

And these dreams I've been having—so vivid and, frankly, messed up. For instance, tonight I dreamt a pod of Weeki Wachee mermaids led me to this underwater portal in the bottom of my Uncle Jerry's swimming pool where I was told lonely girls like me could be brave and live their best lives. Of course, all the other adults at the party were on the patio drinking G&Ts and dancing real slow to Eric Clapton and Marvin Gaye under the full moon. Go figure.

Someone once told me if you dream you are flying you are trying to escape something. But, what does it mean if all you're able to do is tread water?

Anyway, I'm going to crawl back into bed now.

Thanks for being here.

Hugs,

Kristin