My long relationship with waking up, covered with sweat, standing in the middle of my bed has been rekindled. There is nothing more exciting than not knowing when my Sleep Terrors, decide to begin again. But, apparently they have come back for a visit.
It certainly makes inviting someone to share my bed.... awkward. With the great possibility that I will bolt upright, eyes open, with a look of complete panic on my face. Screaming or barking orders is a whimsical bonus. How would I explain to a boy I like that there is a chance that I will begin punching and attacking in the middle of the night. "Uh, I really like you, so please don't run out of my house just because I begin to physically assault you at 3 am."
My roommate, The Mechanic, casually mentioned at breakfast the other morning about whining and crying coming from my bedroom. He debated whether he should have attempted to wake me. Fearful of coming into my room might make the situation worse. Which it historicity has. I really feel like a whiny werewolf. Without the fun of turning furry.
I might need to buy earplugs for The Mechanic, and maybe a lock for my bedroom door. One that locks form the outside. This is due to the events two nights ago; when I woke up to find I made a full Chinese Chicken Salad at 3:30 am. And ate it. Who sleep walks and makes a salad? Seriously.
I can only hope they go away soon. Guys do not buy flimsy excuses about not wanting fall asleep with them.