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After I wake up, if there's a dream I want to record and remember, I'll do so in the little journal I keep on my nightstand. I'll clean up and get dressed, feed my cats (and myself) and go for a 2 or 3 mile run, depending on my mood. But that's the elegant way of putting it. It's more like I wrestle myself out of my sheets, brush my teeth (and refuse to look at the reflection of the mess I've become), scare the shit out of my cats (who are subjected to my grogginess) and stare outside longingly, while wishing I had the motivation to go for a run.