Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Filing This One Under: "Yes, that really just happened"

Happy Valentine's Day all you friends, family members, stalkers, etc! Hope it is filled with flowers, candies, jewels, sweet cards, romantic moments, and lots of love.

My Valentine's Day agenda includes bowling this evening (Erik and I are members of a bowling league sponsored by my company. We even have our own custom made bowling balls! It's super klassy.) followed by me trying to force Erik into watching one of my favorite movies of all time: When Harry Met Sally. Or maybe we will watch something else I haven't decided yet. I have been joking the last couple of weeks about making him take me to see The Vow but then I don't really want to be THAT girlfriend dragging her guy to a sappy movie on Valentine's Day. So Erik honey, at least you lucked out on that one.


The real reason I am posting is to tell the story of how I realized this morning that I am fully capable of taking down criminals in my sleep (even if they turn out to be imaginary). This realization proves to me that 1) I need to watch less violent shows before bedtime and 2) you can feel like a complete badass and a complete dumbass at the same time.

Let's rewind to about 6:45 this morning.

I'm in the midst of a dream where I have just been robbed. Everything in my house is gone except for some things in my bedroom. I am pissed and completely freaked since this robber stole virtually everything of value that I own. All of a sudden I have this realization that I may have hidden some of my valuables in my closet so I am on my knees tossing things around before I happen to see that yes! I did hide away a few precious things.

Just when I have this realization I feel this thump to the middle of my back and the air rushes out of my lungs. I know immediately that the robber has come back and has just seen this secret hidden stash. In my head I am thinking "fight back" but at the same time I am hurt so I'm having difficulty moving. So with all the strength I can muster I roll my body backwards seemingly to hit the robber with my arm and try to hurt him when...


I find myself tumbling over the side of my bed and crashing onto my hardwood floors scaring the crap out of my poor cats (and myself for that matter). For a second I couldn't understand what was happening and I thought that maybe I had accidentally hit Erik when he was trying to kiss me goodbye as he left for work but thankfully he was nowhere to be seen. I may have muttered "oh god, oh god" a couple of times before I crawled back into bed a little bewildered by the fact that I had  believed what I was dreaming so much that I literally flung myself out of bed.

It's still one of those things that I am remembering now that seems so hazy and foggy like "did that really happen"? But oh yes, blog friends I am afraid that really did happen and I am pretty sure I will have the bruises to prove it later. The funny thing about all of this is that Erik was in the house when all this was happening but he didn't hear any of it. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing because I could have really hurt myself but it was totally mortifying when I realized what had actually happened as I was sitting on the floor. At any rate I told him that he should be careful because I am now prone to physical violence of suspected imaginary robbers in my sleep, to which he replied, "It's okay. I think I accidentally hit you in the face last night."

Now that's love.


  1. All of my life I've suffered from night terrors. (Because my brain feels the need to be crazy even while I'm sleeping.) And I've thrown myself out of bed more than once.

    Including off my top bunk bed in my college dorm room once (aka - the day I took up swearing) and recently off my current bed into my current dresser resulting in a large bump on my head.

    So I get it.

    Also, completely love the second to last sentence of this post. Sounds like something my husband would say.

  2. Lauren-
    I can't believe you didn't start swearing until college. Although to be honest, nobody believed I swore when I was in high school. I would randomly say "shit" or "damn" and people would literally look at me like I had two heads and be like
    "oh my god did you just swear?!"

    Also, I'm sorry you have to suffer with scary dreams. It really is not fun (although it does make for good blog fodder) and I hope this isn't a recurring thing for me.

    Thanks for reading!