Being out of the Farmington house has had the effect of a bazillion B-12 shots and a good romp, combined with a great fried chicken dinner and the feeling that God Himself is smiling down and giving me the best fist pump I have ever seen.
The last few nights, I've slept like a log. A half-rotting, moss covered log, lying still and undisturbed for a very long time in an enchanted forest. It's been so long since that happened. I haven't had any bad dreams, and no sign of the hag.