*dazed*

Woke up at 6:55. I have to be at work at 7:30. I got here at 7:37. Not bad.

I'm exhausted. I don't know what is going on this morning, but I am completely drained. I can't concentrate and I really don't want to be here. I'm going to the Blues game tonight with my dad, which will be fun, but right now I just want to go to sleep.

I dreamt that I could fly planes last night. I crawled into a plane with my dad (although he looked like Kevin Costner) and started to fly away from some disaster - but I couldn't get the plane to go above any of the buildings in the city I was flying in. So, I was basically a couple hundred feet in the air. Then somehow I was causing things to fall apart when I flew past them, and an entire section of highway fell out. I landed the plane and crawled out, and a group of people were there. They pulled me inside a building and told me that the world had to think I was dead, or else they would kill me for all the damage I had done. So, they gave me a script and told me my new name was Pearl Bryan and that I was an art student. So, we started reading the script (I guess the other people all had to change their identities as well, so we were practicing). I was the only one who was really upset about changing - I didn't understand it at all, but I definitely started getting into the script. I was about to solve a mystery about art. Then, out of nowhere, I left and went downstairs to a bar, where I met a group of girls who said they graduated from my high school in 1994. And I talked to one girl about the drama club and the shows we were in together my freshman year. Then I discovered she was my cousin and that her mom had bought my childhood furniture from my mom. Don't ask. And then I woke up. At 6:55.

Best part about that dream is that my new name, Pearl Bryan, was an actual person from Greencastle, IN. She was the daughter of a professor at DePauw University in the early 1900's, and she dated a student. She got pregnant, and the student ended up beheading her. The rumor is that her ghost haunts the cemetary where she was buried in Greencastle. It no longer has a headstone, just a slab of stone. And someone goes there every couple of days and places penniesin weird positions - sometimes spelling out a word, and the day/night I went there it was in the shape of a cross. I confirmed with the groundskeeper that it was her stone for a features story I was writing for the school newspaper. Then on Halloween night a bunch of us went to her grave at midnight. Brooke, one of my friends, claims she could feel Pearl's hand on her shoulder guiding us away from the grave. I told her that Pearl probably liked that one of the guys in our group tried to contact Pearl by telling her that he thought "it was pretty fucking rude that that guy cut off your head."

I kinda miss college.