By the time I went to sleep, I had a terrible dream. These dreams are out to get me. Without a thought, I woke up pounding my bed. People used to tell me dreams are the conscious of our worries, fears, and happiness even. I'd like to think that, however these dreams are more brutal than my conscious could ever perceive. I literally feel attacked and I almost want to write these occurrences down, but I also don't want to remember them. So I'll move on.
I'm outside now and it's a complete clouded day; it makes me feel amazing. Out front is my dad's pontoon boat where I decided to sit in. People have driven by catching a glimpse of me. My dog has officially stopped barking at my presence and at last I feel comfortable. This is my favorite weather. I hope it chooses to rain.
Considering this enlightened mood, I'll go work on my story. Have a wonderful day.