The last thing I clearly remember is writing in my journal. I was thinking about the day past, and my entry just fades off in a squiggle
This morning, I re-capped my pen, put away the notebook, and went to shower. As I stood in front of the mirror, I found the evidence that would eventually lead me to the conclusion that I had half-consciously done some sort of chaos working.
Above my left nipple was a poorly drawn sigil. Well, I'm not totally sure it was a sigil. That's just the only word I have for it.
It was drawn in blue ink that matched my pen. I've drawn sigils on my body before with this type of pen, but I've always remembered doing it. This one had no memory with it.
This is a replication of that drawing:
And I have no idea what it might mean.