The other night I dreamed that I stored Rico in a bag full of water with my fish to transport him to another house. When I arrived at that place, Rico was a black cat and he was... not so much alive anymore.
Why is logic always so flawed in dreams?
Last night I think I must've dreamed he was a giant, because when I walked past the living room today, I noticed him lounging on the couch and thought, "Hey, you look different than the last time I saw you..."
The college has gotten my goat again, if there was any goat left to be gotten. This time, the library didn't have even one (1) out of three (3) books recommended for research for an essay worth 15% of my final grade, due this Friday. Fantastic!
All I do is laugh.
I dreamed this morning that I was in a small hotel room full of bees. I think I bit one. I woke up thinking I should eat a steak a day, and dreading writing an essay for which there are no sources. I also had a song I made up in my head.
Dan, every time I saw Axe today, I thought of Corner Gas. Thanks, bud.
You know, when you really think about it, you might say I'm leading the life I dreamed of as a child: Staying up late, doing whatever I want, spending my own money, having my own room, not going to school (because it's summer for 8 months), I have my own kitty, I'm eating chocolate cookies for breakfast.
...Should've aimed higher. But for now, these cookies are delicious.
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