I'm completely off my rocker.
Point proven by the rambling thoughts running through my mind at all times...and apparently even while I'm sleeping.
Yes, we all dream. BUT....do we all wake up our husbands in the middle of the night with these whispered words, "There's somebody in the house."
Let me set the stage for my own disastrous story.
B is a deep sleeper. He is also a snorer. This has led to many arguments in the middle of the night usually with the sound of me yelling "ROLL OVER!". I really wonder how my kids sleep through certain things like this.
So, back to my craziness.
I am a vivid dreamer. As in, I wake up in the middle of my dream and don't realize I'm dreaming until I start talking like a nut job. I have woken my husband up so many times I can't even begin to count.
Sunday night. Oscars.
We watched the entire show.
And then headed to bed.
I woke up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding and staring at someone staring back at me from the hallway, peeking into my room. Creepy, right?! That person might have been Abe Lincoln sporting a green beanie. Scared to death, I reached over and shook B until he woke up. That's when I whispered to him that someone was in our house.
My husband's version is a bit different and makes me sound like a bad actress on Paranormal Activity (is that redundant?).
But I swear to you, I woke up twice in the middle of the night, seeing the same thing.
Our 16th President, Abraham Lincoln, creeping on me while wearing a green beanie.
The real question here is
Well, we had Raising Cane's chicken for dinner....so I'm just blaming them for my delusional sleep patterns.
The whole point of this super long story: because I woke my husband up and was obviously scared and pretty convincing, he then loaded his gun and went on a search through the house for the imaginary Abe Lincoln offender. Now, let's get real here...of course, I didn't tell him my invisible offender was Honest Abe's doppelganger until yesterday afternoon. And I'm sure he didn't think I was crazy at all.....
End of the story...all is safe. Abe is still dead. And no sightings of him last night. Whew.
I'm blaming Daniel Day Lewis.
Just imagine what I feel like when my husband is on nights! I'm a complete fruit loop. Whatever. Abe would have gotten me.
On another (rambling) note....do you over share with strangers?
I won't go into my over sharing with the dermatologist yesterday, only because you already think I'm a bit kooky due to my sleep talking. But I do. I over share. I may or may not have mentioned that my husband had a lot of Native American blood and how my son's skin tone is not like his at all...although I wish it was because he's now stuck with my yellow tone that is veiny (I'm pretty sure that's not even a word, but I totally used it) and....blah, blah, blah.
It was a full moon last night. Let's just blame all of my quirks on that.