I caught a cold Saturday night which I'm now by-and-large over with, but last night was the craziest night's sleep I think I've ever had. I was watching the John Adams miniseries last night and so I had these dreams all about the Revolutionary War and such. Now, dreams about war can be interesting and action-packed... but for some reason the end of grad school seemed to infuse them with a touch of... well...
Instead of charging head first into the British lines, I dreampt that I was managing the war. No, I wasn't a general... instead I worked with the logistical aspects. My operations research classes came flooding back into memory as I performed calculations to optimise sea shipments between Europe and America. I also oversaw the construction of new ships, where I similarly calculated the logistics of how much of which type of wood I needed when.
Not only was it a bad dream, it was a boring dream.
I went to bed at about 11:30pm, which is about a full three hours earlier than my usual bedtime. However, I partially-woke up pretty much every couple minutes; and I completely got out of bed and walked around twice -- at 2am and again at 5am. So despite getting about 8.5 hrs of sleep, I didn't really get any sleep at all.
I was a thorough grump at work this morning. Pretty much everything that anyone said seemed to trigger this reaction in my mind of exasperated annoyance. Fortunately, my ears are clogged up from the cold, so I can't hear a thing; and I was too sleepy to retort against anyone. Hmm... or if I did snap at anyone, I at least don't remember it. Ignorance is bliss. Though I can't help but think that by completing 3 assignments and still leaving a couple hours early... it was among my most productive days yet.
P.S...
So Firefox says that "dreampt" is not a word. Is that another Dutchy term? And last week I found out that no one at my office seems to know what fluff is, and similarly they've never heard of fluffernutters. I never knew that was a regional food! Once again, even though I'm only 2 hrs from home, everything turns wacky when you get south of the Mason-Dixon Line.
