Making Bradley angry is pretty much always a very bad idea.
I’m back at school again. Joy of joys. In some regards, I’m lucky, because I only have two subjects to worry about, but neither is a subject I’m particularly good at. Currently, it’s looking like I’ll have to put in a lot of effort to achieve D grades, and I’d much rather have Cs.
Part of my problem is that I’m just not organised. I don’t get things done. I’ve never been especially organised, but I’m worse this year. In an attempt to fix this problem, I’ve bought myself a notebook, which I’ve christened the “Organised Book”. I’m using it to write to-do lists, mysteries I’m pondering over, dates to remember, a log of all the times my friend has made a gratuitous or unwanted Star Wars reference in conversation (he’s got to be trained not to do that!), and a diary of weird dreams.
The last of these currently contains two entries so far, which are bizarre for entirely different reasons. The first concerns a dream which ended with my mum going upstairs and advising me not to go to bed too late. I replied, “Of course not. I want to get up early tomorrow morning…” and I woke up immediately afterwards. One of those weird things, I guess. I distinctly remember the first thing I said after waking up was, “…but not this early!”
The other dream was unusual in a different sense. I can’t actually remember much about it, but I remember that, in my dream, a certain friend of mine had died several days before. Almost all my other schoolfriends knew, but I’d only just found out. When I woke up, I knew I’d been dreaming, but I had this nagging thought that said, well, how did I know that hadn’t happened? See, all my friends who knew about it in the dream were ones who I hadn’t seen since the start of the half-term break, so it seemed plausible. Plus when I woke up I was feeling totally drained, like you do when someone really has died.
First thing I did was check Facebook, just to put my mind at rest. And thankfully, she’d been online recently. I realise, this was all very silly. If she really had died, somebody would almost certainly have told me.
All the same, when I saw her again at school today, I had to stop myself from hugging her, because she’s not the sort of person who hugs people often. Isn’t it strange how much a dream can affect you?
Current listening: Jonathan Coulton, “Code Monkey”