![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 19th, 2007 08:00 amUntil dusk, yesterday was all about things going wrong. From dusk they stopped being wrong and started being absurd. Rather than give you a zigzagging list of what has happened, I'll give you two examples, one from each side of the zigzag.
I found myself walking to the loungeroom at 3 am, acting out a dream. By 'acting out a dream' I in no way mean writing the Best Australian Novel or pretending to be tall and elegant. I mean that my dream told me I had to pick up all my bedclothes and take them to the loungeroom and sleep there. I woke up with my doona and sheet in hand, halfway ready to make up the loungechair. Does sleepwalking count as voices in head?
I haven't sleepwalked since I was a child. My favourite experience of it was waking up just in time to see a bolt of lightning at the kitchen window. That time I was sitting at the table, a glass of half drunk milk in my hand.
I'm hoping this time was an aberration - I never understood sleepwalking. The dream was rather interesting, I admit, but not scary. In other words, there's no logic to the experience.
The voices also told me to eat some chocolate before I went back to sleep. I think they might have been waking voices, that time. Being told to eat chocolate is something I fully understand.
At the other side of the zigzag is finally receiving some family photos. The delivery guy got a very good look at large quantities of leg when he woke me up form sleep to give me them. I was too tired from the sleepwalking to even think about just how respectable I looked, so when I say 'leg' I mean a considerable amount of flesh. I'm still too tired to be embarrassed, but have woken up just enough to be bemused.
Anyway, in the parcel-with-no-return-address were two pictures of myself and my six siblings. Instead of being on paper, they were printed onto mugs. I'll save them for my birthday, because that must be why I got them. I've been squinting at all the packaging for ten minutes, trying to work out who sent them to me and the name is unfamiliar. It took me *that* long to realise the person unknown was the mug manufacturer.
Do I ring up each and every one of those six siblings to find out who it was? Or do I simply accept the strangeness of today and go back to bed? I'm beyond tired and didn't get much uninterrupted sleep, so I'm taking the morning off to sleep. Package me and send me home if you find me wandering, please.
Makes me wonder what dusk tonight will bring.
I found myself walking to the loungeroom at 3 am, acting out a dream. By 'acting out a dream' I in no way mean writing the Best Australian Novel or pretending to be tall and elegant. I mean that my dream told me I had to pick up all my bedclothes and take them to the loungeroom and sleep there. I woke up with my doona and sheet in hand, halfway ready to make up the loungechair. Does sleepwalking count as voices in head?
I haven't sleepwalked since I was a child. My favourite experience of it was waking up just in time to see a bolt of lightning at the kitchen window. That time I was sitting at the table, a glass of half drunk milk in my hand.
I'm hoping this time was an aberration - I never understood sleepwalking. The dream was rather interesting, I admit, but not scary. In other words, there's no logic to the experience.
The voices also told me to eat some chocolate before I went back to sleep. I think they might have been waking voices, that time. Being told to eat chocolate is something I fully understand.
At the other side of the zigzag is finally receiving some family photos. The delivery guy got a very good look at large quantities of leg when he woke me up form sleep to give me them. I was too tired from the sleepwalking to even think about just how respectable I looked, so when I say 'leg' I mean a considerable amount of flesh. I'm still too tired to be embarrassed, but have woken up just enough to be bemused.
Anyway, in the parcel-with-no-return-address were two pictures of myself and my six siblings. Instead of being on paper, they were printed onto mugs. I'll save them for my birthday, because that must be why I got them. I've been squinting at all the packaging for ten minutes, trying to work out who sent them to me and the name is unfamiliar. It took me *that* long to realise the person unknown was the mug manufacturer.
Do I ring up each and every one of those six siblings to find out who it was? Or do I simply accept the strangeness of today and go back to bed? I'm beyond tired and didn't get much uninterrupted sleep, so I'm taking the morning off to sleep. Package me and send me home if you find me wandering, please.
Makes me wonder what dusk tonight will bring.