Worst version of the dream ever. Damn it...is it too much to ask to just want a good night's sleep? I daren't look in the mirror, because I look like crap. I have for the past little while. Stupid dream. Why won't it just leave me alone?
So, contrary to my post about mental notes, I made a list. T'is rather a silly thing to do, but it's pretty good, considering I cannot draw anything right now. Nothing, except this one idea planted in my head a few days ago that lingers there and chokes off the rest of my imagination. Not like I had much of one left anyway.
Tomorrow, however, will be different. I do hope the weather is nice. I'm going to the park-what a surprise-and I'm going to sort out my sketch book, listen to music, and play on the swings. I'm glad I don't feel quite so sick, now I'm just tired.

Oh dear God no...no no no no no...eeeeeek! I just found a note from mother. Addressed to me, stuck to the pantry door, with only two words. "French braids." This is not good. I have done something very wrong and now I am going to be punished with the most painful torture imaginable. Oh dear! Whatever shall I do!?