bedtime romance

Is anyone else an avid sleep-talker?

At the risk of talking about one of the most boring subjects on the planet, I’m going to talk once again about myself (shock) and about the issues I have with sleep-talking.

Now when we’re asleep, we’re supposedly off in another world; Dumbledore would have us think that “in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own”. Dreams boggle my mind, quite frankly, as I just don’t get which part of the mind dictates how many times my subconscious self can pine for donuts and snogs with Ron Weasley.

However, I’m not here to discuss to intricacies of the brain, and more to lament on how embarrassing it is to be a sleep talker…

Ever since I can remember, I’ve yapped away in my sleep; it’s no wonder I’m always so tired, I spend all night putting the world to rights with my own mind. Just the other day, I woke myself up telling my boyfriend (don’t think he was best pleased) that I was going out with Dennis Rodman – I had no fucking idea who Dennis Rodman was in the first place nor am I likely to be going out with him anytime soon (call me Dennis), but apparently my brain had decided that for one night only he was to be my bae. Who comes up with this shit?

I’m putting my sleep chattering ways down to an over-active mind; clearly I’d much rather talk to myself than anyone else in the twilight hours. I’m on tenterhooks now however, wondering just how long it’ll be ‘til I let slip something important, like where I stashed my chocolate orange or what my PIN number is (maybe that’s how I was robbed the first time).

Is this really the literal ‘man of my dreams’? Is this the best my sleep-self could come up with? His eyebrows are more alarming than mine.


And I’m unsure about his current choice of partner.


As Dumbledore would say: “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” – See ya Dennis.

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