That's right, 2 posts in one day. That's because I'm in a writing funk and I can't get out of it. Lately, I just think my ideas stink. I get this way a lot whenever I send something off in the mail. I decided I needed to blog about a sleep episode I had last night. It was a real doozy. What's funny about it, is I actually told somebody that I hadn't acted up in a long time and the very night I get home to my nice soft bed I go nuts.
Because the weather was warming up, we decided to open up some windows, so this created an even better opportunity to embarrass my family in front of the whole world. If any of you recall hearing screaming in the middle of Sunday night, you can rest easy. It was only me.
Here's how it all went down. Sometime in the middle of the night, we'll say 2:00 a.m. because that's usually when things get wacky in my home, I rolled over in my bed and stared at my wall. Now to clarify, staring at a wall usually implies that I was awake, but not me, not this time. I was out cold... but actively involved. Anyways, as I was staring at my wall, I noticed that for some reason a strange doggy door had appeared in the wall near the floor. This was odd because we don't have a dog and even if we did, why would we need a doggy door in my bedroom wall? In my dream I bent down and stuck my head out the doggy door, so to continue with the illustration, I physically hopped out of my bed, ducked down by the floor boards and was rubbing my head against the wall, dreaming that I was staring through the doggy door. What I saw is a little hard to explain. I was peering out into the backyard (again impossible because the wall didn't face our back yard, but that's irrelevant) and there, charging towards me was Anderson Cooper from CNN or NBC (I'm not sure which, but I'm almost positive the dude was on Channel 1 when I was in High School.) I didn't know it was Anderson Cooper right then, it took me part way through the morning to totally realize who it was. At the time, it was just some young looking, grey-haired guy wielding a knife and racing toward the doggy door to stab me and my family with it. That's when the screaming started. Heidi immediately woke up and tried to reason with me, but I was rather frustrated that she didn't share the same urgency that I had with trying to keep Anderson Cooper out of our bedroom. Imagine if you will, a bewildered thirty-something crouched down by the floor board, trying to keep an imaginary doggy door closed with his hands and screaming about how we were about to get stabbed by someone on the other side of the wall. Finally, my poor wife got through my thick skull and things starting making sense. Of course, because she's had to endure this for over 9 years, Heidi went right back to sleep. My heart was racing too fast. I just lay there, wide-eyed and staring down at where the doggy door used to be wondering if maybe, just maybe, Anderson Cooper was crouching beyond the wall holding a knife and waiting for me to go to sleep.
This is a very good reason as to why I don't do drugs.