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So, I re-read Stephen King's "The Mist" yesterday.
And I had bad dreams last night. Unsurprising? Well, actually, it is... see, I don't dream of boogiemen.
My bad dreams involved me having volunteered to help with two different activities at the same time 'tomorrow' (now today) and not realizing the schedules conflicted until after people called me up to confirm and I told them yes.
...When I woke up, I had to ask my mom if there'd been any such calls for me the day before that she could remember, because it had dawned on me that maybe it was just a dream.
Thankfully, it was.
And I had bad dreams last night. Unsurprising? Well, actually, it is... see, I don't dream of boogiemen.
My bad dreams involved me having volunteered to help with two different activities at the same time 'tomorrow' (now today) and not realizing the schedules conflicted until after people called me up to confirm and I told them yes.
...When I woke up, I had to ask my mom if there'd been any such calls for me the day before that she could remember, because it had dawned on me that maybe it was just a dream.
Thankfully, it was.