No Sleep for Dreams

I have always been a, ummm…, active sleeper? I am heavily invested in my dreams?

Ok, I talk in my sleep. A lot. Sometimes my sleep will even force me out of bed to put on one sock or eat a granola bar. The night walking is less frequent, but certainly more terrifying and funnier conversation.

It’s not uncommon for me to yell at my bedmate. Lately, I suppose I have just been yelling at myself. This morning was different. I shared my bed last night. People tend to let you continue yelling and choose to tell you about it when you wake. Good looking dogs aren’t as courteous.

During my dream, when my sister got an airline ticket and she paid a “prostitution fee” my “What the fuck?” was vocalized and woke the sleeping pocket beagle spooning at my right. Waking a dog with vulgarity at 5am is no good for all parties. If only I could have kept my yap shut. She realized she had to pee and I realized she’s a dog and needs a human to help her do that. I had to get out of bed. I mean, what was so outrageous about my sister paying a “prostitution fee” anyway?

My dreams ruin my sleep more often than not …. Like the nightmare I had that week that forced me into tears mid slumber. I woke in distress. I had been sobbing so hard that my ears were full of tears. I suppose I would have preferred the beagle were there then.