On a boat with friends, I believe. I slept. Thankfully without the usual nightmares. Perhaps the sea air does me good.
The captain, Meagan Foster, brought some tea earlier. Such an interesting woman. She seemed to understand, about my strange disjointed memories, and the feelings of dread that accompany them.
As soon as I am able, I must return to Addermire. So much of the last few months seems a blur. What was I accomplishing? What of my research into serums for the black spittle? My work was so easily derailed. I can only conclude I was suffering from a complete exhaustive breakdown. I will need time to recover.