Or not. I'm still recovering, and if I ever complained of a lack of inspiration in the past *sputter* now I have a headful of hazy cotton.
But my dreams, when I am napping are a colorful burst of hyper-realism and surrealism. like Gaugin, Dali and Magritte threw a party and worked on the same canvas.
I can't write those. They are too colorful and plot twisted into nonsense. When I awake, they disappear, leaving a rainbow infused wake behind them.
And I am starting to go stir crazy. Just a little.