Heavily medicated.

It looks like I managed to pick up a little cold this weekend, and I spent a good part of the day yesterday blowing my nose and making fun congested noises. But with a little help from my friend NyQuil (actually, WalQuil for those likeminded individuals who like to compare ingredients to Vicks NyQuil and save), I drifted right off to sleep last night. In fact, the sleep was of such quality that I woke up at 5 this morning, only to finally drift off again at 7, a skant half hour before I had to wake up. I'm now hopped up on Vitamin C tabs and WalDay, and I'm just worried that today, which is already the longest day of the week, will be just a bit longer.

In that delightful half hour of sleep between 7 and 7:30, I had the strangest dream, perhaps a residual effect from the WalQuil. I remember I was sitting outside my portable building, which had suddenly become my home (and it had five different toilet paper holders installed on the wall in various places, yet the only one without any TP on it was the one right next to the hopper), looking to the north when I noticed a bunch of men on horseback clearing ski runs on a mountain. This in my home town where it has only snowed once in my life, dropping 1.5 inches one morning, which shut the town down completely for lack of snow removal equipment and common sense. Anyway, I watch these twenty or so men, obviously lumberjacks of some other sort of outdoorsmen, riding these great white horses up the runs, down the side of the hill, and back up again, trampling down the trees and clearing space with impressive rapidity. It was sort of like a dance; very fluid, with a unique rhythm observed only by the participants. Of course, it didn't occur to me until this morning when I woke up that these must have been immense horses and men to be doing this work - one rider and horse was as wide as the ski run being cleared. But it seemed perfectly normal at the time.

Then suddenly I'm the back of a taxi spooning with one of my friends (who currently has a boyfriend), she the back spoon and me the front. She was comforting me because I was feeling lonely for some reason or another. The whole ride she was this pair of old blue jeans, completely calming and comforting, and I felt really safe there. But the whole time I also kept thinking that I should not feel that way because of the whole boyfriend thing, but finally I just said "ah, screw it" to myself and relaxed. That was the best part of the dream, which of course is when my alarm clock decided it was time we got going.

I cannot wait for tonight's adventures. In the meantime, I'm going to try and sit quietly through 5 hours of class today and not say anything, because what might seem brilliant to my medicated mind will probably be the intellectual equivalent of 2+2=5.