I have difficulty sleeping. I lay in bed for hours tossing and turning. Every little sound wakes me up. It’s always been that way. Not sleeping well has become part of my personality. I’m shy. I’m quirky. I’m a bad sleeper. That’s why when my husband started claiming that I was just dreaming about not sleeping instead of not sleeping in reality, it really threw me for a loop.
My husband claims that on all those nights that I didn’t sleep a wink, I was snoring away. Yes, sometimes I snore, but it’s a very nice lady-like snore that sounds like fluttering angel wings.
Recently, the dog has been keeping me up. If he sleeps in our room he moves around and breathes too much, and if he sleeps someplace else in the house he still moves around and breathes. When I ask my husband if all that moving around and breathing bothers him he just looks at me like I’m crazy. “Would you rather he didn’t move or breathe because maybe we should’ve gotten a stuffed dog instead.”
He’s got a point. I never considered the stuff dog option before–less walking, less feeding, less poop. The downside is that I’d have to work a whole lot harder to annoy a stuffed dog, and everyone knows I like to work as little as possible.
Last night I swore I smelled the dog brewing coffee in the kitchen. I sat bolt upright in bed and said to my husband, “He’s making coffee.”
My husband groaned and rolled over, and I ran to the kitchen. The dog was in there, but he was just wagging his tail. There didn’t seem to be any coffee brewing, but he could’ve have been hiding it.
After that I kept smelling coffee, and then there was a thunderstorm. I just couldn’t get back to sleep.
My husband thinks this was all a dream, but why would I dream about the dog making coffee? It really happened. That’s why my brain has been mush all day. That’s why I can’t seem to form complete sentences. At least that’s what I’m telling people when they ask. I’m tired because there was a thunderstorm and my dog kept making coffee last night. It makes sense, right?