Nightly sleep ritual: lie on my left side and think about the uncertain future. Roll to my right and think about crows, and my favorite Beach Boys songs. Settle into the center and think about sex, which is a slap in the face as intimacy of any sort is so unsettling to me currently as to be a hair away from an anxiety attack. Repeat for several hours. When I was younger and purer, substitute sex with instead getting freaked out by the theramin sound at the end of Good Vibrations, which for some reason I equated with trolls that were going to kill my family.