We all know that I am a sleep walker, but luckily I have always been able to keep my nocturnal wanderings to my own room (or house when I lived alone) and I've never done it when sharing my bed with anyone.
Well that all changed on Saturday night.
The Man and I went out for a few drinks on Saturday evening. Nothing too special. Just a quick visit to The Beat (not a "Beat" but a nightclub called "The Beat" for you southerners) where I imbibed enough beer to make me giggly, but not a big night by my usual standards. We were back at his place by 4am and happily in bed soon after. No dramas, lots of fun.
When I've had a few drinks, I tend to sleep really heavily. No tossing and turning. Maybe a bit of snoring, but it's usually a nice deep sleep. So I was a bit surprised when I rolled over at 11am and found the following sitting all neatly stacked together on the floor on my side of the bed -
1. - An iron
2. - Approximately 10 DVD's
3. - Scrabble
Holy shit. Fucking psycho alert.
The Man was already up and out of bed (cooking me breakfast, as he does most mornings) so there was no way I could put all the stuff back before he noticed. That would have been an exercise in futility though, as I had no idea where I got them from in the first place.
It's not my fucking house.
I laid there for a few minutes in a state of mild panic. What if I went into his housemates' rooms to get this stuff? Was I wandering around naked? What if he thinks I'm a freak? What if he dumps me?
After a while the need to relieve my bladder became over whelming, so I jumped out of bed (I discovered I was wearing boxers that I didn't go to sleep in - phew, I wasn't naked) and walked out into the kitchen with all the stuff I had collected to be greeted by roars of laughter from all assembled.
It appears that I made few trips throughout the morning and when the man asked me what I was doing I responded "I'm going fishing".
Luckily I had told him about my sleep walking early on, so he wasn't too surprised.