The combined stress of next week's mid-term exams and my adversarial relationship with the demon known as Statistics has left me wiped. For the past five consecutive nights I've fallen into a very deep sleep and dreamt very strange dreams. Most of the time, I don't remember a thing about them: I simply wake up, roll over, and go, "Whoah. That was weird." Stress dreams are always kind of amusing even as they happen; if you dream that are both yourself and Eric Foreman from 'That 70s Show' while being chased by tigers through New York City, you know something is wrong on a very base level, but you can't do anything about it, so enjoy the run.
Also, possibly due to stress, I'm getting lines from movies and cartoons stuck in my head. This week it's: "It's a sweater!" Every time I think the lines, I laugh out loud, and the laughter reduces my stress. I think it's my body telling me that I need to calm down. Or possibly watch The Three Amigos.