I had so many things I wanted to write about last night. But I fell asleep. Typical. I've been much too tired lately. And it wasn't even a nice sleep.
I was haunted by horrible dreams all night. Each time I woke up I was in more of a panic than the last. I detest waking up with my heart beating loudly in my chest, as if it wants to burst free. I hate that moment of utter discombobulation, searching the darkness for the familiar shapes that let me know I'm all right. I want mellow dreams, with cheesy music and smiling people (though this might scare me even more!). I really do tire of these wacky, all-too-realistic nightmares that have become a staple of each night of sleep.
And you know me (well, you might not... but you do), I can't leave the dreams alone. I have to rethink each part throughout the day, pick it apart and look inside for the hidden meaning. I'm convinced everything has a hidden meaning, you know.
But now, there is work. And then there is the final. And then ... I'm not sure, but there's a bottle of vodka around here somewhere with my name on it.
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