A Good Night’s Rest

Posted: 11 February 2009 in observations

There certainly were red fire hoses between the sheet and the blanket. In fact, there was an entire, woven layer of them and D, per usual, was accusing me of stealing them. Ever solicitous of my blushing bride, I sprang out of bed to fix her fire hose situation. Despite flinging the blankets to and fro, I still couldn’t fix her fire hoses and frankly, I didn’t appreciate her baffled, sleepy blinking. I haven’t been sleepwalking in some time. Usually it’s stress. There I am, sitting up in bed, having a lengthy conversation with someone sitting at the foot. I suppose you couldn’t call that sleepwalking so much as exceptionally active dreaming. Sometimes those conversations can go on for hours, at which point I usually feel embarrassed enough to get out of the bed and put on some clothes over my pajamas. Though I think that if you came in the middle of the night to talk to me from the foot of the bed, you wouldn’t mind overmuch if I wore my pajamas. Once, in a malaria medication haze, I nearly jumped off of a balcony after determining that my home/ship was sinking fast. Why I thought the sea of driveway cement was a better alternative than my bedroom/cabin, walls dripping with worms, I’m not sure. Reason enough to stop taking that particular medication. Certainly that qualifies as sleepwalking. Medication can do a fair number on me. The day after a very sound sleep with a trial sleeping pill, I found myself stuck fast in the warnings part of the commercials. There I was, driving home, completely unaware of my surroundings. Sleepwalking? Good fortune rather, that I didn’t end up in an accident or worse. D is used to sleep chatter from me, but I think it’s been awhile since I’ve been up roving around in the moonlight, eyes wide open, bent on completing some task. It hasn’t been a particularly stressful week but clearly something set me off. Regardless, that blanket of fire hoses has got to go.


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