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Wednesday is laundry day. I did one load. I also figured out who is selling their apartment in my building. Fortunately, it's not the cute boy and his girlfriend (wife?). Yay. I was worried. Cute boys are not allowed to sell their apartments. If anyone is interested in being my neighbor, the asking price is $199,000. It's a 2-bedroom, 1-bath. Approximately the same size as mine, I believe.

I also finished knitting the Purple and White "Harry Potter" scarf for my brother's friend, who attended Furman University (and, thus, likes purple and white).

I went to bed around 10:30. I turned off the light, got in bed, put my glasses on the table, and laid down. Then, I started (nearly) hyperventilating. I don't know why. But, I had to consciously think about my breathing for a few minutes before it stopped and I could fall asleep.

I dreamed about John.

When my alarm went off this morning, I couldn't get out of bed. The rain, the dark, the cool air, the snuggliness of my comforter and my kitty were all conspiring to keep me in bed.

Now, at work, I feel like there is a band around my chest that keeps getting tighter. I wish I knew what was going on. It's probably a combination of job unhappiness, "relationship" woes, several approaching deadlines, and the trip to NC all balled into one throbbing mass of unpleasantness. *gah*

I need a drink.