Those crazy days

I hate it when I wake up in the middle of a bloody good dream. It makes me want more. And I don't like feeling that way. Makes me feel incomplete. Sometimes I retrace my steps on the night I had that good dream, hoping I'd have it again. Errr, it hasn't worked. Yet. But I'm still hopeful.

Sunday's aren't going so great for me. I'm cooped up at home studying while the rest of my family's making a ruckus out in the living room. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. But it's starting to get a teeny bit cramp, especially with the boys running around like the house is on fire.

Oh! Speaking of which, my grandmother's kitchen stove caught fire. But that's another story. Nobody got hurt, so all's good.

There's this other reason why Sundays' aren't going great for me. But I'm choosing to keep it to myself. Besides, the friends and family know so I guess that's good enough, cus you know how bottled up I get when I don't have human interaction. I go nuts. There was this period of time where I stayed at home to study cus I had no other idea what to wear ( I thought I exhausted all possible permutations). Then, when I met up with the gang a few days later, everything came spilling out. Even when nothing actually happened while I was at home but when I'm alone I start a'thinkin and trust me, I think alot.

Bottom line:
I generally feel sucky on sundays. So I gotta do something about that and hopefully, my dreams will, simultaneously, go back to being darn bloody good. If ya know what I mean.