Over the last little while, on a few occasions - after a perfectly normal, merry old seven-eightish hour sleep -I have woken to find my clock radio not sitting on the table beside my bed, but on the floor.
Now, unless there's some rogue dwarf squatting in my wardrobe that I'm not yet aware of, the only person the finger can be pointed at is, um, myself.
I don't have any answers and I don't want to think about this too much, otherwise I will think I am crackers. So, to make me feel at home with my crazy sleepself, could someone please out-abnormal me with a better story of sleep adventures?
That would be triff, thanks.
Yours crazily,
kate
*wonders if furniture should be whitewashed and tossed in neighbour's swimming pool*
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11 comments:
You're not crazy. I know that rogue drawf bastard. He'll drink all your vodka, too.
I need to catch the little fucker, he's doing my head in.
OMG - you are kidding right? You KNOW you work with one of the craziest sleep walkers in NZ?? Ask Numbers next time you see him about the bomb in the bed, the wool press, the aliens, trying to kill people, peeing on people's curtains...the list is ENDLESS.
Without a word of a lie, he is like those people on those docos.
An alarm clock on the floor would be a very quiet night in our house!
Thank you Esther, I now feel remarkably normal!
Well, since you asked! I come from a long line of sleepwalkers/sleeptalkers.
1978, my brother, age 4, who has fallen asleep on the couch at a family party, sits straight up from a dead sleep and yells "Hit the defectors, Chewie!" and then falls back asleep, while we all laugh uproariously.
1955, my dad, age 9, sleepwalks into the kitchen of his new house, and sitting at the table are his mom, dad, and the neighbors, playing cards. He walks over to the fridge, pulls open the veg drawer, and proceeds to unleash his 9-year-old snake and urinate all over the lettuce and carrots. He then cages the snake, shuts the crisper drawer, closes the fridge door, and goes back to bed. All without waking up. My grandma freaked.
1970's, me, age 4 to 10. My parents had to lock my in to my bedroom at night (door and second story window) because the neighbors would find me wandering down the street, in my nightgown, dead asleep. After I couldn't get out of my room, I would repeatedly fall out of bed, and wouldn't wake up even when I hit the floor. My parents would come in, put me back in bed, process would repeat all night, every night.
The present, the Spouse Sparrow. Too anal to fart while he is awake, he rips 'em out all night long, followed by long moans and sighs. I'm hoping he's not dreaming of scheisser videos, but knowing him, well...
There. Feel better?
Fat Sparrow ! I am not a loon. I am not a loon. I am not a loon.
Hallelujah!
And see, it could be weirder.
You probably just moved your pillow in the night. Or the burglar did it.
Not many weird sleep stories here. Except I can have whole conversations with my husband which he never remembers in the morning, while he is asleep.
Fat Sparrow, that is legendary.
Mwa, can you get promises out him? Like for holidays and stuff?
I can't top Fat Sparrow, but, I did try to pee on my brother's head when I was about 5. Like, while sitting on his head. Somehow, neither of us woke up.
Artemisia, what on earth was I worred about?!
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