Many peolpe had a glorious time at Hoffman Lanes last night. I left about 1:30 and arrived home, safe and sound. After going to the bathroom, I undressed and went to bed. I dropped my clothes on the floor and distinctly remember falling asleep.
I awoke the next morning at 7:30 on the couch.
…
How did I get there. Did I anger my wife in the middle of the night to the point she kicked me out? Wouldn’t I remember doing such a thing? Did I have an “accident” in bed, making it necessary to sleep elsewhere until I could clean it up? Did my wife remember anything? I can’t wake her now, it’s 7:30 AM on a Saturday. Let the poor woman sleep. Maybe we’re getting a divorce. Was there another woman with me when I climbed into bed last night? I get up to check. The bedroom door is open. I peer in. My clothes are in an orderly heap on the floor, just as I remember. My wife is in bed, so at least she didn’t leave me in the middle of the night. My side of the bed appears disturbed, so I did spend at least a little time there last night.
It’s 8:45, I can’t wait any longer, so I go wake my wife. “Do you still love me?” is my first question. “Are we getting a divorce?” “Are you angry with me?” The questions continue until I ask “Is there any conceivable reason why I would have fallen asleep in bed and woken up on the couch?” She laughs.
I survey the house, like a CSI trying to determine if anything is disturbed, out of place. Did I break anything? Did I drive the correct car home last night? Did I paint the kitchen by chance? All systems are “situation normal”. I guess I just go on with life as best I can.
Why are you not supposed to wake people when they’re sleepwalking? Will it kill them? do they kill you? The only thing not waking a sleepwalker accompishes is staving off confusion until the morning. Which might not be the worst thing, right?
Now, off to actually paint the kitchen.
