I’m not a sweet, gentle sleeper.
I don’t drift off into a peaceful slumber with luscious locks cascading around my dainty, dream-filled head. I don’t wake up perfectly rested and Disney.
Aurora’s like “Make up’s still on FLEEK people…and my crown ain’t moved”
I’m not like one of those stock image women who spend 50% of their time waking up in pure perfection…
It’s 6:01 and I feel so ALIVE
And the other 50% laughing their tits off about salad…
Haaaa I don’t even have any salad dressing to numb the taste! I’m crazy, me!
That ain’t me, girlfriend.
I know that I drive Tony Baggins completely mad at night because I’ll quite often accidentally punch him in my sleep. ACCIDENTALLY.
One night, when I was younger, I woke up and screamed in terror as there was a cold, clammy hand on my face. I COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT, grabbed the hand and threw the person as far away from me as possible, out onto the floor.
Of course, the person who landed on the floor was me. Because it was MY HAND.
My own hand which had got pins and needles in the night and turned cold and dead.
My sister was kind enough to remind me of it just this week.
I love that laughing with tears emoji more than some of my own family
I’m also a bit of a sleeptalker. An ex-boyfriend told me that I’d sat bolt upright one night and just shouted “T-SHIRT!!!” at full volume in my sleep.
But that doesn’t make me weird does it? I mean, some t-shirts can be terrifying.
Anything by Ed Hardy for example
Dreams are strange, they fascinate me. I once dreamt about a random classmate I hadn’t seen in 6 years or so…and then bumped into them the very next day.
One night – when I was a 16 year-old with frizzy hair and huge, uncontrollable crushes – I dreamt Prince William (we’re talking back in his sexy, gap year days) had asked me to be his girlfriend. In my dream he liked frizzy hair. HE thought it was HOT.
Looking Raleigh, Raleigh cool there Wills
In this dream Willy Windsor gave me a red scarf. Don’t be jel, we were just close like that. Our relationship had reached those dizzying ‘here, have this random old red scarf’ heights and I was loving life. Or what I thought was life.
I woke up FULLY believing that I was in a relationship with the future King of England. Then after about 5 minutes of twirling around my room my brain slowly started clunking back from Dream Mode to Awake Mode.
Niggling doubts were starting to creep in.
“I better find that scarf” I thought, panicking.
The scarf would be tangible proof of his royal affections.
I turned my bedroom completely upside down. There were a fair few Tammy tops and Mark One trouser-skirts, but no red scarves. A few blue hair mascaras and NOW! CD albums, but NO RED SCARVES.
Pure heartbreak. One of the worst break-ups I’ve ever been through.
But the weirdest sleep disaster I’ve ever had was a year or two later, when I was doing my A level mock exams. I woke up one morning before school and went about my usual routine: showered, chose an outfit, dressed, did my make up, went downstairs to eat breakfast, came back upstairs to brush my teeth, got my stuff together and then headed back downstairs to the front door to leave.
The road was empty. Not a car, not a person, not even a lone pigeon.
I went back into the kitchen and – this time – looked up at the clock.
It was about 2am.
I’ve never been so confused. I thought I’d woken up to my alarm but I must have been sleepwalking.
I had to take my make up off, put my PJs back on, and get back into bed.
Waking up in the ACTUAL morning I thought perhaps I’d dreamt the whole thing…but the clothes I’d chosen were in a pile on the floor and the cereal bowl from my 2am breakfast was by the kitchen sink.
I used to kid myself I was a 2 Weetabix girl, pour too much milk in and then be like ‘oh look, I’ve got loads of leftover milk, I better have another Weetabix’. I was a 3 Weetabix girl and my secret is finally out.
The next morning I woke up and went through my same morning routine: showered, dressed, did my make up, breakfasted and packed my bag. Got to the front door to leave and realised I’d done it again.
The clock in the kitchen said 2am.
I DID THIS STRANGE DOUBLE MORNING ROUTINE EVERY NIGHT FOR A WEEK.
I put it down to exam stress but I’ll never know. The upshot was that I got to eat 30 Weetabix in 5 days.
Over to you: What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever dreamt about or done in your sleep?