sat.

Dreamed of being in a new place, and a small but vicious lizard. I found the lizard's nest in a flooded room, with a clutch of soggy eggs. "Are these your babies," I asked the lizard, holding one out as evidence. It was oblong but chicken-egg-sized, white with a tinge of pale pink like new milk. The lizard responded by pooping out another egg, this one smaller than a jelly-bean, then returned to terrorizing a bird. "You are a terrible mother," I told the lizard. I cupped the large egg in my palm and felt for life. It soon began throbbing with a subtle heartbeat and emanating warmth; it was cold-blooded and I was giving it my heat. This scared me slightly; "Don't take it all," I whispered, not sure how I felt helping an invasive species survive.

This morning I have too much to do and I've been following the block of sunlight across my living room. Every labor just seems so fruitless.