Friday, July 24, 2009

on the subject of sleeping

I deal in acts of social altruism: I use an ipod to stop me eavesdropping, I drop out of film courses that may or may not have the potential to make me a bit over anxious and thus overly rude to people who have done nothing wrong except wear leggings because they are misguided little lambs, and I spend a good deal of my time asleep.

The sleeping thing is becoming a bit of a problem. On Thursday, I fell asleep in the sun at uni for two hours. While this was very lovely, I woke up slightly sunburned and disinclined to do anything for the rest of the day, except eat something. Unfortunately I decided to have the spiced veggie wrap, which is always way too spicy, but I am way too stubborn to be beaten by a veggie wrap. So, sunburned sleep and scowling at my veggie wrap, I went to the film lecture.

And then I came home and went back to sleep. It just seemed easier.

Except for the fact that I appear to have developed a few habits that are, perhaps, slightly odd. Not perverse or anything, I promise. Its just that, apparently, I curl my little hands into fists in case someone tries to attack me in the middle of the night and I have to defend my teddy bear's virtue. I think I mentioned this a week or so back? It's been getting steadily worse though. I was discovered curled into a very tense little ball, and when my mum tried to wake me, I kicked out, caught my foot on my teddy bear and ended up in a very undignified pile on the floor. My mother merely said "remember to buy milk today" and left me to my own devices. It was then I noticed that my teeth hurt. I've been clenching and grinding them in my sleep.

Perhaps I'm channeling Otto Von Bismarck in my sleep. He always seemed like a very stressed individual.

The final sleep habit that I've developed is the most embarrassing. I thought I'd fixed it when I purchased new bedsheets, but alas. What happened with my old bedclothes was that, because I've had the same Minnie Mouse doona cover since I was about 6, all the buttons that keep the quilt inside the quilt cover had come off. And this winter, it's been very cold. And I'm very wriggly when I sleep (or I used to be, before I turned into a human claymore mine). And that's why I kept waking up inside the quilt cover and had three very embarrassing incidents in which I couldn't find my way out of the quilt cover and knocked my head on the bedpost. And that's why I bought a new quilt cover, (I could have sewn new buttons on, but the new cover is pretty and warm. Besides, the other one is 15yrsold) and the morning Casper reenactments stopped.

Until this afternoon, when, weary from trying to explain to my Subject Advisor, that "Yes, I know I'm absolute pants at history, but I'll be less pants at it than I would be at having to work with people in the film course, because that relies heavily on group work and do I look like a team player to you? No. I am a lone ranger. Watch me being lone and rangy." And then I promptly tripped over my own shoelaces and he remarked that perhaps I need looking after. So, yes, I came home and managed to churn through a chapter of an e.e.cummings biography before nodding off.

When I awoke, all was dark. And fabric-covered.

I was inside my new quilt cover.

After much cursing, I emerged from my quilted prison. I buttoned the cover back up, and then with crushing shame realised that all the buttons had been done up when I first curled up on my bed. I must have undone them in my sleep. This causes me great concern, as I fear it might be the first step to utter madness.

My family, when I told them, laughed a lot. Claudia suggested that perhaps I relax before I go to sleep. My father suggested that perhaps I take up narcotics again. My mother patted my head and made her "you are a mad duck face". My brother burped.

There you have it. The highly embarrassing and uninteresting habits I have when sleeping. I have no idea what's wrong with me, and I'm too scared to ask Freud.

I'd say that I should simply stop napping, but I don't really think I can. It's my own form of social altruism, remember?

(There's a school of thought that says there's no such thing as altruism. To them, I say "I like napping. I dream of electric sheep and Lizzle marrying fish".)


Chris Stokes said...

I love sleep. As an idea as well as getting some. Apparently once I woke my entire house by screaming "cardboard" at the top of my lungs whilst slumbering.

Although you're climbing inside the duvet cover wins.

Amanda Atkins said...

I remember that in college, sleep kind of became like an escape. There was on semester that I was so stressed out, that sleeping felt physically awful. I would nap a lot, and whenever I woke up I just had that heavy, hot, tired after-nap feeling instead of feeling refreshed. Another semester, I was so happy that I never slept. I'd sleep maybe like two hours a night, and nap in the park in the afternoon just soaking in the loveliness of everything (kind of like you on the campus!). It's only now that I'm out of school that I (most of the time) sleep peacefully through the night and don't have to nap.

It is probably stress and anxiety that is effecting your sleep. I guess I have no advice for that, except try to focus on things that you love and make you happy, and not the things that make you sad. Pretty obvious advice, I know, but it's what I do. Oh, and reading until you fall asleep. I do that when I feel too sad to go to sleep with my head racing in a million directions.

I hope your sleep improves!!!