I had so many crazy dreams last night. I only remember a few of them, but they�re all the same in one aspect: after each dream (of which there seemed to be at least 4 or 5), I would wake up, sit upright in bed and say out loud to myself, �What the fuck was THAT all about?� Then I�d furrow my brow in some form of sleepy consternation, realize I was too tired to ponder or interpret the oddness of it, and fall right back asleep. I know this happened several times, because each time I also looked at my clock (something I do whenever I stir in the night, so that I can be relieved with how many hours or minutes I have left before I must get up).

Oh, and that�s another thing. I am having so much difficulty getting up in the morning. It�s like, here�s my routine: Buzzer, snooze, buzzer, re-set alarm, buzzer, alright! Drag myself out of bed, annoyed that I even have to be up at this ungodly hour. Look around the room, fall right back onto the bed. A few more minutes won�t hurt, right? Wake up suddenly, a few minutes surreptitiously turned to 15, now hurried, rush about, brushing teeth, waiting for the shower water to heat up. After shower, hmm, took less time than I thought it would. Fall back on the bed, this time refreshed and clean, which makes sleep just that much more comfortable. A dangerous combination, soft skin AND soft pillow. Makes me want to marry the two, never to be separated.

Eventually, I make it to work. But not without struggle, and not without burrowing my face in the pillow intermittently while getting ready. Until the last step � lipstick � which keeps me from running back to the pillow a last time. Maybe I just need more to look forward to in the day. And by that, I mean motivation. More to motivate me. Everything seems like such a fucking chore, it�s like Gotta go to work, gotta get gas, gotta get groceries, gotta do whatever. When all I want to do is read or write or talk or fuck. Yeah, you read that correctly, I think that all of those things are equally stimulating.

But I bitch. I mean, the little things suck, but they still have to get done. It�s the little tedious and annoying responsibilities that make me want to scream. Not that I �scream�, I mean, I�m MUCH more composed than that. Most of the time.

Anyway, I really did think that by having a computer at home, I would update my journal more regularly. Nope. I should have known better. As much as I love to write about my life, I much prefer to live it. Living takes precedence over writing. Else, I�d have nothing to write about anyway. So the weekend was nice, I saw a movie on Friday, went to a mellow party on Saturday, missed church on Sunday. It�s harder to get up for church when my father�s out of town. Spent time with friends. I must say, this was the mellowest (and yes, that�s a word, at least in the eyes of spellchecker) weekend I�ve had in� I can�t even fucking remember. It�s nice to relax every once in a while. Even if you get nothing done except for your dishes.

-Barbarella

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