Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken

I have a lot of randomness rolling around in my head today.

I haven't been sleeping very well.

I have weird dreams. 

 Not nightmares, so much. I don't wake up screaming or crying or anything. I just feel extremely uncomfortable all the way through them.

Last night in my dream I was walking into a dark kitchen. I saw a small, dark figure dart across the room. And I knew. I knew I had to grab it and find out who or what it was or I would lose. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to so badly that I had to jump on it to keep from running away.

Then I yelled at it, "You're not a ghost!"

When I woke up I realized how very strange it is to see a dark figure in a dark kitchen and to accuse it of not being a ghost. Why would I assume it was trying to disguise itself as a ghost in the first place?

I don't know. I really just don't.

And another thing I don't know is why I woke up so grumpy this morning. No good reason, I'm sure. {I will blame it on the non-ghost, though.} But I was grumpy. So grumpy. And Husband was being the model of niceness, which made it even worse. He even gave me very helpful outfit feedback when putting a decent outfit together seemed to be the most illusive trial of my whole life.

And I just grunted and kicked at the bathroom rug pretty aggressively. Several times.

And while we are on the subject of things I don't know, let me just say that I don't know why they make gumballs that are yellow or green. It's so depressing to have my little sweety-lovin' heart set on a juicy red gumball, put a quarter into one of those big machines, crank it, and then watch a nasty yellow gumball go around and around forever. It taunts me. "I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!" All the way down. I know I don't have to chew it, but it seems against principle, ya know? Plus, how much more depressing is throwing away a gumball after watching it spin around for ages.

And the whole time I'm thinking there goes 1/4 of a perfectly lovely, perfectly large McD's Diet Coke.

Plus, what was a 22-year-old doing at a gumball machine anyways?

Apparently the Kind of 22-Year-Old that would do this...

So depressing.

And now it's 3:00 pm, and I am watching the suite across the hall lock up and head out.

Good thing it's Friday or I might have to put myself in a dark hole with a bunch of dark figures who aren't ghosts and chew a thousand bajillion yellow gumballs. Or something.