soldtoarmenians

Xander's really packing, this time, not just trying not to and failing. He doesn't want to, but the more he gets squared away now, the more time he'll have left to be with people, instead of doing this. And it's... going. Not well, but it's going. The only problem is he doesn't have enough suitcases, and they aren't nearly big enough, or maybe just not the right kind.

( Cut for packing woe )

Some things *cough*, he can carry in his head, of course, even if he didn't get a picture. Thing is, the thing is that ... he's going to have to carry all of what matters most in his head.

Because there's no room in his luggage for the whole damned island, or even a miniature giraffe no matter how weetiny he is, and the one thing Xander would leave everything behind for if he could make it fit...

Well.

Stupid Samsonite.

[For Bridge.]

Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Location: 121

Things What Happened To Xander

Shop with...trees.
Common Room with...slime. And facepalming.

Thing What Should Be Making Xander's Ears Burn (but aren't, because not psychic omg)

Something tasteful in the school paper...
Journalistic Integrity includes stalking, yay. Or not.
Whaddya know, someone's dreaming again.

Stuff What Happened to Xander:

History of Some Dude Named Art (Who may or may not be a stuntman)

Stuff What Should Be Making Xander's Ears Burn:

Nadia's dreaming again...

Five minutes after getting back from his cancelled Shop class, Xander was sound asleep.

Almost two hours later, he was awake, rubbing his eyes, about to be late for Magical Theory, and still, as far as he could remember, hadn't dreamt one damn thing.

Sighing, he checked his e-mail only to find one about the first play rehearsal, which improved his mood no end, of course, then sat down to write up what he could remember of one of his more common recurring dreams.

( Yeah, this one's a little more boring. )

Current Mood: sleepy

It hadn't exactly been an eventful day; his only class was Art History and that had been a blow-off movie hour with the crazy nun again. The crazy art nun, not the crazy sex-tips nun, although they looked disturbingly like they might be related. Hadn't been a bad day, either, especially not compared to ~OMG Robots Attack!~

But Xander's head was starting to ache again, and his burned finger throbbed; he really wasn't up for heading out to see whether there was anybody in the common room who didn't know about his new weird power and could be freaked out by some less than random channel flipping. Fun, but maybe later when he wasn't so tired and achey.

While he dutifully followed doctor's orders and didn't use booze to bribe the little guy with the mallet, Xander did substitute an overly-large handful of Excedrin, and a twinkie. Because caffeine and sugar? Always conducive to a restful night's sleep. They cut into the headache a bit, but not the tiredness; by the time he'd read and answered a couple e-mails from Parker, Xander was falling asleep over his laptop, and barely had time to move it off the bed before he zonked out completely.

( Dream, cut so you can just say no to crack. )

And Xander smacked at his alarm clock with a muttered FRAK. He hit his burned finger on it, and followed that up with a FRELL that wasn't remotely muttered.

And it was 7 a.m., and he had to get up for Shop, and damn if he could remember what the hell he'd just dreamt. He guessed he really would just have to make something up for class today. Also, cheerful? Not so much. Though not entirely inexplicable, what with the hour and the ow.

__
{Dream people utterly modded without their permission, OMG.}

Current Mood: ...restless? *runs*

Halfway to Shop Class, it occurred to Xander that he was supposed to have written down his dreams for the weekend so he could do that analysis for Ms. Calendar's class. Crap. He couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming about except... short waiters in tuxedos trudging through hip-deep snow and wearing ~~incongruous~~ strange hats? He shook his head; that was way too weird and kinda sounded like he'd just made it up on the spot. He'd either have to really make something up, or just tell her he forgot, and turn it in late. Probably the last one; he couldn't quite picture himself faking up homework for that class.

Shrugging, he headed for the Danger Shop.
( OOC note for moi-self )

Current Mood: still pretty cheery
Current Music: Heigh ho, heigh ho, it's off to Shop we go...

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Entries tagged with dreams

Room 121, Morning

Wednesday

Tuesday

406, first and second period.

Tuesday Night/Wednesday Morning

Monday Morning, la la la

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January 2007

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