Fighting the noise with louder noise

Lately I feel like I can never get my head straight. I can't focus. Everything is distracting and it's making me crazy. Three nights in a row now I've been awake in the middle of the night for no reason. I hate that. So I've spent all my time listening to the same music over and over on itunes and wishing I could figure shit out.

I woke up shortly after 2 this morning and laid there for a long time before I got up. Husband woke up and texted me that I should try to sleep (Yes, we text each other across the house. Don't hate.) I went and laid down for a while and then things started to get weird. 

I suddenly felt like I was drunk or I'd just stepped off of rough seas onto dry land. I was plainly aware of everything around me and I was awake, but not entirely. The swimming in my head stopped and I suddenly got four images that were crystal clear like I was right there looking at the objects themselves, only everything around the edges was blurred out like an old photograph.

The first was the front left leg and the cushions of an old Victorian couch, but seen from the viewpoint like I was crawling on my hands and knees next to it. The second was what appeared to be a 70's era armchair. It was upholstered in awful red orange fabric. The third was an end table. It had a flower vase / pitcher thing or a framed picture on it, but I couldn't really tell what it was. I just know there was something there. The last was of a very old, worn piece of paper. It was long one of those Wanted Posters you see in western movies, very brown and frayed on the sides and it appeared to have been unrolled to be hung up. It said "Emily Trahehill". Nothing else. 

I'm not sure what to make of it. I went back to sleep shortly thereafter, but those images are still as clear as when I first saw them. I woke up with an insane, nagging need to find out who Emily Trahehill is, but there doesn't appear to be such a person. There are a few towns called "Tradehill", but I'm not even gonna go there. First off, I'll sound like a nutcase if I start asking random girls named Emily in towns named Tradehill if they know anything about an old couch or an armchair. MORE crazy if I tell them I dreamed it. 

So yeah. That's what I got. I need to go force myself to work on some projects, but I'd rather waste all my time playing Robot Unicorn Attack and not thinking about all the shit I'm SUPPOSED to be doing.