I set a goal to write one short story a week.  That's right.  Because I like pain.

Even the majority of my friends who are constant encouragers about me really pursuing my dreams to write responded, "Why did you do that?!"  They do this because they love me.  And because they know what a stupid goal that was to set.

I'm laying here, even with a good short story in my head right now... and I just really don't want to write it. Which is also odd and I can't really explain it.

I woke up from a late Sunday nap and as I layer there, I realized I was narrating myself.  That's right.  I like to fall asleep with my arms above my head.  Only problem is, if I do this, I wake up with them completely asleep.  Somehow, this managed to scare me today.  I imagined that somehow, my right arm in particular was dead. I slowly moved the fingers on my left - one-at-a-time.  And then, I reached over and grabbed my right wrist.  I imagined that's what death feels like.  I soaked in the creepy moment, and then eventually moved the still-limp arm down to my lap until I could regain blood-flow.  WHAT A STRANGE BIRD I AM?!! Not in a "I'm cool and different and quirky" sort of a way, just one of those "God, I am odd"  moments. : /  I have those.  Lots of them.

I laid there, and suddenly the room I was in was full of friends, but not really my friends.  Friends of my friend's.  I interacted with them all.  And then they all left and a whole new group of friends came in.  This time, not my friends at all.  I didn't even know them.  I just watched as a silent observer.  When the first line struck me, I knew this was going to be a great half-dream.  "My parents are heading over the the library to see some guy, they said they could watch this guy sleep forever."   Wait.  Huh?

Yes, and I watched these crazy people for a good long time.  Willing myself to get up, get my laptop and write them out.  But I didn't want them to leave, or I didn't want to have to leave their room.

This is part of my crazy.

C-R-A-Z-Y.

Perhaps even more crazy because I'm super proud of the fact that it was all in color! According to Meg's  professor- not everyone dreams in color.  She says if you dream in color, you're a writer (or was it you're an artist? Meg?) Curious - do any of you dream in black & white? : /

Alright, off to write out this scene, somehow give it a plot.  And then, I get to read my book. :)