My brain is fragmenting.

I've been working on putting my new site together. This requires some degree of organization, as I'm pulling together elements from my Earthlink site, my LiveJournal, and files scattered around two hard drives. It's a battle between my ADD and my determination, and so far the ADD is winning.

First, there's the simple (ahem) matter of picking a style and sticking to it. I've been working on a template to use for my journal pages, but I keep forgetting it's there and starting over. I get rolling on another section only to realize that I need a file from the Earthlink site, then get distracted when I'm online and forget about the work I was doing. At the rate I'm going, we can expect to see a grand opening somewhere in the spring of 2005.

And that's if my brain holds together. Last night was an awful night of tossing and turning, drifting in and out of strange nightmares set in Boston in the 1700s, awakening disoriented in a tangle of sweaty sheets, heart thumping. I had killed a man in self-defense and then, as if I were the Pied Piper, all the children of Olde Boston started following me around and proclaiming me their hero (heroine, I suppose).

I was sheltered on the second floor of an enormous, drafty old church, protected by the entire cast of ragamuffins from Oliver, or so it seemed, when the brother of the dead man passed me in the hall with his lady at his side. Ignoring the children, ignoring his lady, he lunged at me and grabbed the wrist I put up to defend myself, breaking it, his fingernails digging into my skin --

And I woke again to Cricket insistently patting my hand, demanding her breakfast.

That book on Ted Bundy goes back to the library tonight.