I woke up this morning from another bad dream. I mean, I never used to have dreams like this. I used to just… fall asleep and if I have a dream, I used to not remember them very well. But then last week’s dream happened and then today’s dream happened. And I remember them, I actually remember them and I really wish that I didn’t. I woke up at around 11am, which puts me at around nine hours of what should have been a lovely, undisturbed sleep. Instead, I wake up and I’m shaking. I wasn’t waking up in tears this time. I just woke up and I was shaking. My dream consisted of me being attacked on the bus. Which is not cool at all, considering I go on buses four times a day, times five days a week. And I generally sleep on them as well, if I can. So having a dream where I’m being attacked on a crowded bus and all of the other people riding the bus are just blissfully asleep and ignoring me screaming? Not the best feeling in the world. I can actually remember struggling and screaming. And then, of course, I woke up and I just couldn’t get out of bed I was shaking so bad. I ended up just lying in bed (well, more like curled up in the fetal position) for about half an hour before I finally got up and went out to the kitchen to get something to eat.