Keeping Busy

Although my dearest Brett has been gone for only a few days I miss him so much. It has been nice being able to communicate with him through phone, skype, and email. I've been working a lot and today and yesterday I finally had two days off. All my study abroad stuff is pretty much set to go so now all I have to do is enjoy the time I have left here and pack for the long road ahead. This morning I was woken up by a strange dream I was having, not unusual as I often have strange dreams. In this one I was still in America but my debit card had been stolen and all these different people were making purchases with it, like a different person in many different countries all around the world, men and women, old and young, white, black, and asian... It was the strangest thing. And I remember by the time I realized that my card was gone the strangers with my card had already rung up a $486 tab. And then I didn't get my money back in time before I went to England. It was a pretty terrifying dream, probably because I've spent most of my "adult" life trying to make money to pay for school and more recently to pay for my upcoming extremely expensive stint in another country. Then the dream morphed into something different. I was in a sparcely furnished old house, with cream colored walls, exposed wood beams, and a crazy old lady inside who was looking for me. I don't know why I was in the house or why I was hiding when all of a sudden a heard a creak and then my friend came in. She was someone I knew in the dream but never in real life. I guess the closest person I can equate her to was this thin tall mulatto girl who was the daughter on this old show that's now on UPN... So she saw me and I mouthed to her to go hide, so she entered another room that was connected to the room I was in. And then the old lady chased me some more and then finally pushed me off a balcony that was on the second floor of the house. It was kind of like I was Matilda being chased by Trunchbull in the live action Matilda movie from the 90s, except I was myself at my current age, and I wasn't being chased around by a huge, masculine looking olympian woman with a hairy lip, but a frail old lady, at least in her eighties, with long white hair in a braid down her back and she had a knife. It was just the weirdest thing. And she didn't stab me, just push me. I wish I had some sort of dream journal to tell me what that all meant, but I don't, so I can only interpret that I need to keep a good eye on my money and don't trust old ladies. Anyways... I miss Brett.