This is why I hate my alarm.

This morning I had a very enjoyable dream. Instead of arms, I had wings, and there was some sort of enormous warehouse environment, and I had some superhero type friends, and we were fighting some evil dude and his minions, but all that was secondary to the flying. The entire dream I was soaring around the warehouse, going super fast, or super high, weaving through the aisles. It was amazingly detailed, I could feel the strain in my arms as I took off, the effort needed to make altitude, the feel of wind under my wings. I even landing on the top of a wooden pole, like one of those old wooden power poles, and I almost lost my balance because I had only my sneakers to stay on. It was SUCH an awesome dream. I fricken love flying dreams.

And then I woke up, and I've been pretty depressed all day. It's a commonly expressed sentiment, but by god I wish I could fly, more than anything.


Anyway, I'll be home soon, and won't have to worry about school anymore, which will be lovely.