Today, I'd peg as normal. I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating, notifying me of a new message. I did not bother to look at it, as I already knew it was just the Air 1 verse of the day that is sent out at the brilliant time of three in the morning.
I woke some hours later to my phone again, this time my alarm. 10:00. I was supposed to get up to finish a college admissions form before 10:30 so that I could let my mom know if she needed to take the afternoon off to go enroll in classes.
The enrolling plans did not pan out, so there I sat at my computer, aware that today was going to be as uneventful as the one before it.
Then, I began to remember the dreams I'd had that night.
The bricks hit, my stomach sank.
These bricks were my normal breakfast.
They are the realization that my short-term coma is over, and I remember everything I'd escaped from for only a moment.
The understanding that I've got another 12 to 15 hours before I can sleep again.
Sometimes, there are new bricks. Bricks that come with the dreams. Tricky bricks, born of nasty games that REM plays on my mind and emotions.
These bricks do not sit well.
They disagree, and I feel sick.
I wonder if this morning's breakfast of bricks was too much for me to stomach. See, time went on, and it wasn't until I saw the clock read 12:30 that I realized I'd forgotten to eat normal breakfast.
But, then again, what is normal anyway?
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