Fun Fact: Sharing something I probably shouldn’t…
Here’s something most people don’t know about me: I talk in my sleep. Big deal, you say. So do a lot of people. No, I mean, I TALK in my sleep. Full conversations. The clear as a bell, coherent kind of talking that (unless I said something totally weird) you’d never know I was asleep.
I also walk around.
And clean house, take out the dogs, feed the cats, scoop the litter, grocery shop, drive and run errands.
I do all this with eyes wide open, for all intents and purposes quite awake…except I’m also dreaming. I’ve been with my Doms, T and G, one week out of every month for over a year now, and this morning they finally got to see my crazy first hand. Here’s what happened.
I don’t know when I woke up, but I got up, put a nightgown on and took the dogs outside before heading upstairs to my ‘office’ to work. When I walked into the living room, however, there were eight or nine people I didn’t know there (including one really creepy lady with a cat; who the hell brings their cat when they go visiting other people’s homes?). Feeling very awkward for being in my nightgown, I quietly got some clothes on and then set about to cleaning up the living room so everyone could sit down. Being a good hostess, I scooped the cat box (so the creepy lady’s cat wouldn’t feel reluctant about using it) and then set about to making coffee.
Now, we had a party last night and were out until 2 am. I didn’t remember until I went into the kitchen that I’d taken the coffee maker to the playspace. Still, we needed coffee. So, I got my shoes on, grabbed my keys and wallet and drove across town to retrieve the coffee pot. I also stopped at the store to pick up donuts, bread and bacon (I do have the receipt, so I know I paid for it) and then I came home. All those people had come in a bus that I distinctly remember driving around before I parked again. Sitting in my car, apparently eating donuts, I then called an author friend of mine, Dinah Mcleod, and had a 20-minute conversation with her that I do not at all recall.
Back into the house I go, where I could have sworn–SWORN–I cooked the bacon before setting it, the loaf of bread and the donuts on the coffee table, along with a stack of plates and some napkins. When the people started talking about church stuff, I got uncomfortable and went upstairs to my office to work. Sometime between then and 11 am, I woke up for real. Probably when my Doms’ teenaged son knocked on the door and asked if he could come in and wash his shoes. (No, that wasn’t part of the dream. That one really happened. My office is the desk in the upstairs bathroom. Don’t judge.) At some point, teen #1 asked if the donuts were for everyone, to which I cautiously replied, “I got them for the people downstairs.” Although I was hoping he’d say something to clue me in on whether anyone odd was in the house or not, he didn’t. He just went downstairs and helped himself to some donuts.
A few minutes later, T knocked on the door to ask me: A.) Where the donuts came from, B.) Why a box of raw, uncooked bacon was sitting on the coffee table, and C.) Was I feeling all right. Very, very reluctantly, I told him about the church people and gradually we pieced together my very adventurous morning. Once he and G were done laughing at me, we laid down some new ground rules. The next time I walk into the living room and it’s full of church people, I’m to wake them up. I also have to relinquish my keys and wallet before I go to bed from here on out.