Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Queen of the Jungle

     Sometimes I do strange things in my sleep. Exhibit "A" dreaming about learning to apply make up and woke up looking like this.

     Apparently someone thinks it is a good idea to hold conversations with me while I am half-asleep/half-awake despite knowledge that I can be quite unpredictable while I sleep. I personally think that is a risky business. 
     A dear friend of mine was preparing to attend the Barry Manilow concert. I had mentioned this to Justin nonchalantly. Whilst I was asleep the night before the concert, Justin discovered that the concert was to be cancelled. As tragic as this news was; I do not feel it warranted him trying to get a reaction out of me as I slept. I have no recollection of him trying to reveal this breaking news to me, but he was sure  to inform me first thing the next morning that I "roared" at him after he told me about dear Barry. I am quite sure I was just dreaming I was a large cat. 
     The other night Justin asked me to remind him to bring his burrito to work the next day. Before he left in the morning I vaguely recalled seeing him in a haze and uttering "I love you" and "burrito," (so romantic I'm well aware). I called him once I got up and moving around and asked if he was proud of me for remembering to inform him of the tortilla filled with goodness lurking in the fridge. He claimed that I only barked unintelligible roars at him and that I must have been dreaming about telling him to remember the burrito (more realistically I was probably dreaming about large cats). I thought he was trying to play a dirty trick on me; owing to the relentless mocking I have endured since the Barry Manilow incident... But much to my surprise the burrito was still in my fridge. 
     I offered to bring the damn thing to him on my way to work. I, on a mission to prove my sanity, kept thinking so long as he is wearing a gray shirt then I had in fact told him "burrito," since I had a faint image in my mind's eye of him standing over me in the early morning before his departure. When I pulled into his work he came outside wearing none other than his gray shirt! I victoriously explained my logic to him, and that I must not be crazy after all. While he admitted certain defeat he still refused to believe that there was any way to discern what I had roared at him (my opinion someone needs to learn how to speak lion if they want to try to talk to me in my sleep). He kindly asked for his burrito and then I realized I had forgotten it. *sigh* 
     I sure do hope that there is never a fire or some kind of emergency while I am asleep. I am pretty confident that I would persist to roar to whoever was trying to save me, then they would have to call animal control or something. 

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