Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, I found myself thinking about one of my two American Lit classes, probably because I handled the book as I rearranged a bookcase, and wondering what happened to a classmate. His name might have been Matt, but I was never clear on that point. Actually, I was also wondering about that weird non-trad who wore ripped sweatpants to class every day too, but for other reasons. Then there were cartoon elephants in the lit book, holding hands...
My brain realized that I was now dreaming and responded by freaking out...which of course woke me back up. Why??? Sleep was the end-game, shouldn't Brain been happy to have gotten there? You know, rather than panicking?
"If I only knew you'd haunt my dreams for years..." - Woodhands, Dancer
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