To not sleep, for sure not to dream

One of the numerous viruses swarming us lately has ensconced itself in my head. It's one that makes it hard to breathe at night, which interferes with sleeping. So does worrying about one's offspring getting home from a late night at work, driving on icy snowy roads in this hilly city. I'm grateful for a good powerful espresso in the morning to go with my homemade toasted bread; surprising clear skies help buoy up low energies.
Walking with my mother was a bit nerve racking, since there were still plenty of slippery patches on the pavement, but she saw that sunshine and lack of wind, and was enthusiastic about getting out. She even scoffed some at the low temperature, saying she'd endured far colder ones in Saranac, NY, as a child, and in NW Ohio, where she spent most of her life. Brave words; as soon as there's the slightest hint of a breeze, even in midsummer, she shivers. Something to do with a very old thermostat.