Math Dreams and Mouse Spotting

Yesterday was not for writing. Some days are just like that. I'm the same way when it comes to creating new designs for the shop; sometimes I can spend an entire day trying to put something on the page, and sometimes the ideas bubble over more quickly than I can stop them.

Yesterday was not for writing. The harder I tried, the less progress I made. I finally gave up around 9, and sent myself to bed early, hoping to combat the scratch in my throat that I'm desperate to avoid becoming a full fledged cold. Three hours later, when the smartest came to bed, I was still awake, agitated with myself for not being able to use the time in my evening more successfully.

I had stress dreams all night. Usually I have pretty specific stress dreams, but last night it varied from cooking a chicken dish and trying to determine if it was done, crunching numbers on a spreadsheet that I didn't understand (ahem- also known as any spreadsheet, ever) and various Viking death practices. That I'm pretty sure my brain made up in response to a Hulu ad. Usually I dream about missing tests and being attacked by bears, but I was left with the same annoying tightness in my chest. I eventually woke myself up, and decided that this was just ridiculous. Math? I'm having nightmares about math?

I rolled out of bed and stumbled across the room to relieve myself. I flicked the smaller shower light on, because once the smartest and I encountered each other in the dark, each thinking that the other was in bed, and that was a petrifying experience I'd rather not repeat.

And there, in the shower, a little brown mouse darts out. He stares at me, with an expression that I like to think of as "Busted!" He darts back to the corner of the shower where I can't see him. I calmly close the door, and then shove a bathmat along the bottom crack, to make sure he doesn't get any bright ideas about visiting the bedroom.

I woke the smartest up, startling him half to death in the process, and informed him that there was a mouse in our bathroom. He agreed to buy a mousetrap today. We both stayed awake for entirely too long after that, me listening for the telltale scratch of the mouse picking his way out of the bathroom, the smartest probably wondering why I would wake him up in the middle of the night to inform him of a problem we couldn't presently fix.

I eventually did fall asleep. And dreamt that there was a class that I had forgotten to take. Ah yes, the return of the normal stress dreams. No bears, though.

Yesterday was not for writing. It was for close encounters of the mouse kind.