Do you ever wake up Working? Like your workbrain never turned off? I keep waking up in the morning in the middle of breaking stories for Switched at Birth. It feels like all night, instead of dreaming, I’ve been trying to figure out  how Bay and her Dad can have a meaningful cross in the driveway and what that cross might be, literally and subtextually. But I wake up with NO ACTUAL ANSWERS OR SOLUTIONS, just the sad knowledge that instead of dreaming of living inside of volcanoes or on other planets or awkwardly liasoning with friends for middle school on in houses that float near rainbows that are also boats, I’ve been working. I’m either incredibly devoted to my job or my imagination has officially crapped out, or perhaps a delightful combination of both?