You never realized how you have a really specific way you've been sleeping until something prevents you from sleeping your normal way. I sleep on the left side of the bed, and either sleep on my back or my right side. Well, with a cobbled up right foot, it makes it harder to sleep on your right side. So just sleep on your back right?
Well that's the theory anyway.
The past 2 nights, I've laid down when Gene went to bed, because well, I'm kinda stuck here. It's either go to bed when he does, or toddle out into the kitchen and let my foot throb while I sit at my desk. I've been choosing the sleep route, for about an hour every night, (not working) and then the foot throbbing part for an hour or two.
Last night, after getting up for a while, I came back to bed. Now, when I say "came back to bed" that's really putting it quite lightly. It's more like dragging my big, pink, limpless appendage behind me like a big 90 pound anchor. *thump* *draaaag* *thump* *draaaaag*.
It's a scene right out of a Edgar Allen Poe poem. Only pink.
By the time I make it to said bed, I'm usually ready to lay there and rest, before I get ready to rest. Srsly. I have to lay there on my back for a while, before I get into my "real position".
My real position goes something like this.
- Lay on my right side with my right foot propped up on a pillow. Yeah, I'm confident that's excellent for my posture, and I'm sure I'll be going to the chiro to fix that little problem in 4-8 weeks.
- Bend left knee and lay left foot on top of cast. Careful cuz it's scratch and it hurts. Put the sheet in between legs and get cold. Toss and turn a bit. Steal sheets from Gene.
- I then fight the sheets trying unsuccessfully not to stir Gene from his sleep. The sheet gets caught repeatedly on the fiberglass part of the cast.
- Oh wait, that's not the cast, thats the little strap on shoe I forgot to take off.
- Sit up and try unsuccessfully to riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip the velcro loose so as not to stir Gene from his sleep.
- Toss on the floor so I can trip over it at my 3 a.m. wee.
- Repeat step 3.
- If I'm lucky, Gene's still fast asleep either on HIS right side facing away from me or possibly snoring uncontrollably on his back. Who can say "cpap machine" kids?
- More than likely, he's on his left side. Do the math. Me facing right, him facing left. That's two people that thankfully love each other to death because it's the perfect set up to snore in each other's face for the next 7.25 hours.
- Regret not reminding Gene to brush his teeth before bed.
- Give up, lay on back.
- Give up, lay on left side.
- Give up, lay on back.
- Give up, lay back on right side.
- Repeat steps 2 through 9
My last thought before I fell asleep last night was there must be a big old sleep button on the inside right of my skull. When the blood rushes there, it activates and then ... *snooore*. (Please keep in mind, I'm 3/4 asleep at this point on in this story, so forgive me for sounding wonky.)
I really did think that before I fell asleep. It stuck with me the entire night. Especially when I woke up, laying flat on my back, from a long forgotten vivid dream somewhere around 6:00 a.m. Hey, even crippled girls gotta pee.
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my foggy brain at that moment, I thought to myself, "I wonder if the weird freak out dream button is on the back of my head then."
Let me explain. People have weird dreams, I get it. Mine have always been extraordinarily weird. **weird**. No, you're not getting it... ******weeeeeird*****
Here's an example. You might dream that you're running, being chased by a big snake, and you pick up a hoe and kill it. Pretty weird huh? Did you see a snake yesterday in the garden? God you're so vanilla.
Here's how I dream: I'm not exactly running, I'm jogging 3 inches above the ground. I hear a laugh and when I turn, I see a big purple snake that's 17 feet long and has Johnny Knoxville's face. He's laughing maniacally at me, and no matter how fast I hover/run, he stays inches behind me. I find a machete, sticking out of a tree, so I grab it and it turns into a light saber. When I turn to kill Johnny Knoxville snake, I realize it's not Johnny, but my gym teacher from Jr. High Mr. Reese. (Hi Jim!). I use my light saber (which turned into a rubber mallet) to slice him into pieces. Out oozes grape jelly. Peanut butter and jelly for everyone! OH! and I do this all with no pants on.
And then I'll tangent with jelly immediately into the next dream.
No, I'm fine. Really.
Gene thinks I need a psychiatric evaluation when I tell him my weird dreams. I say it's just my creative self coming to the surface. 99% of these dreams are forgotten within 10 minutes of having them. I'd be scared to write them down into some "type" of LSD induced manifesto, for fear that the government might look through my tinfoil hat and have me committed, Ohh.. or worse yet, enslave me to spy on our enemies, you know, the french.
(Srsly, are you shocked I have weird-assed dreams now?)
So anyway, after I piddle, I make my way back to bed with this new found theory. I'll lay back in bed on my right side, hit my "internal skull sleep button" and see if I can have a restful sleep with no whacked out dreams.
1.5 hours later, I wake up on my right side, dreaming about cat shaped bananas and fishing for trout in the bathtub.
Shot that theory all to hell.