Monday, August 01, 2005

To Sleep, but Not to Dream... Please???

Ok, so I have always had a problem with sleeping. Namely, I've never really done it. I think my mother is still harboring resentment against me from when I was a baby and utterly refused not just napping but sleeping through the night. At all. Apparently I was so stubborn about the not sleeping thing I would occasionally fall asleep in my food, only to wake up and protest LOUDLY when my parents assumed (silly parents) that passing out in my dinner meant I was sleepy. As I grew older, I never really got in the habit of sleeping all that regularly, throughout elementary school I used to lay in the dark and listen to my walkman for hours, and in high school I was usually on the phone. (My boyfriend at the time was in college).

So I am not surprised that I suffer from insomnia now. Generally I am ok with that. I have discovered that Sunday nights (or Monday nights, if I have had Monday off) are the worst as far as the not sleeping thing goes. At first I was all upset by this, but now I'm kind of used to it. No point is lying there stressing out about not sleeping when you know you aren't going to sleep. I now pet the cat a LOT on Sunday nights. The cat is fond of this plan. I? Not so much.

However, I am FAR FONDER of the plan where I pet the cat than I am of whatever the Hell happened last night. I was reading, it was getting later, Kate kept visiting to check on me and the air conditioning- ("Not Sleeping?".... "Nope"). But I was getting tired, so I thought maybe I would just lie down and....


Ok, y'all. I dream. I mean, I dream. Vividly, and often. But last night? ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SUBCONSCIOUS??? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?? I have no idea where the dreams came from. They were not... pleasant, to put it mildly. And I kept waking up and freaking out and really pissing off the cat and then I would just fall asleep again and GAH!

In self defense, as I felt myself fall asleep, I was able to take enough control over the dream that I armed myself at the beginning of every dream. Didn't matter what setting, who was there, I got a dream gun. I... I don't own a gun, people. I have never shot a gun. Last night? I wasn't going ANYWHERE in my sleep without my gun.

Which proved to be singularly unhelpful in preventing me from giving myself a complete heart attack and doing something entirely stupid at around 4:30 this morning. I wake up from whatever dream I was in, and I am suddenly POSITIVE someone is in the room with me. There had been someone in the room in my dream, and CLEARLY this was because I was reacting to the very real presence of someone in my room. So I look up...

And see two people in my room.

Who freaked out? Oh, I freaked out. I just stared at these people. I suddenly realized that maybe it was Kate and E. But.. why were they in my room? I spoke to the people (I am SO. BRAVE, y'all). I said, "Why are you here?". Nothing. I had to turn around to turn on the light, but I was afraid to, because I just KNEW that as soon as I turned my back they were going to attack, and there was nothing I could do about it because I was awake and this was real life and I didn't have my dream gun.

So I turn on the light. And my two white shirts that are hanging in the closet across from my bed hung benignly at me. That hat the one guy was wearing? Totally just the sleeve of one of my sweaters. There... there were no people, people. Just me, shakey and relieved, my non-deadly clothing, and one seriously frustrated cat who had just gotten comfortable and was now blinking in the sudden light at me with a "you have got to be kidding me" look on his face.

So to sum up, instead of sleeping like a normal person, I have become a member of the nocturnal NRA and am having middle of the night conversations with my own clothing. The cat hates me, and my roommates, believe it or not, have NOT taken to slinking around my room at 4:30 in the morning.

I have no idea what last night was all about, but tonight? I'm taking a Tylenol P.M.