I had the most normal dream ever last night. My class and I were at a haunted house that was part of our school, and then we were at Disney World. That seems…fairly normal, by my standards.
But then at one part the little sister of a girl in my class was collecting blankets but she wasn't going to send them to the troops (Apparently this happened during WWII…?) because they had enough and she instead was going to cut them up and give them to the poor. Yeah.
But then there was the part where we were eating Fritos but were for some reason calling them Doritos, and I was able to fit a whole bunch of them in my mouth, which impressed/weirded out some of the guys.
But then there was the part where I ran around the Disney store shouting about sweaters and then my dad tried to set me up with an 8-year-old girl, albeit jokingly. Because that's not creepy in the slightest.
You probably shouldn't read into this dream that much, unless I want to end up on a psychiatrist's couch.
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For most of yesterday evening, if you wanted to calculate the center of a triangle made by points A-throwing up, B-crying, and C-falling asleep, all you would have had to do was attach a interdimensional triangulation thing to me, as I was balancing on a knife's edge in the center of said triangle. However, a source of great angst for me over the past few weeks has turned into something wonderful, so I'm cool.
Now if only I could translate these great passages into my novel…. My characters are eating cereal. I have an outline, goshdarnit!
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