The strange things people do in their sleep…

I do weird things in my sleep, or so I’ve heard.

It’s kind of funny, when thinking about it, that people who would be in the know about what I do in my sleep never deem it worthy to inform me of those things in a reasonable time frame.

I didn’t find out that I talk in my sleep until I was 22 years old – while my husband was deployed – and walked out into my parents living room one day only for them to ask me, “Were you talking on the phone last night?”

Um, no.

So, after being informed that they’d heard me talking, I decided to call Best Friend. I asked, “Do I talk in my sleep?”

Her response was, “Yeah.”

That was one of those how could I know that if you didn’t tell me?! moments.

Countless sleepovers throughout the years (we used to spend all weekend and nearly every day of summer and school breaks together), and she NEVER TOLD ME.

I’ve been known to sleep with my legs straight up in the air, tickle my arms, and do all sorts of EXTREMELY strange things. I think those two things are enough for anyone to know in that department. Too much, actually.

Yes, I tickle my arms in my sleep sometimes. I know it’s weird. TRUST ME; I know it’s weird.

Talking in my sleep was the most disturbing of things I’d heard I did by far. Needless to say that when my husband was preparing to return home from that deployment . . . I was afraid, despite having slept next to him for however long before that unwanted parting.

I’m unsure how long it took for Husband to inform me that I do not SPEAK in my sleep. I mumble – incoherent words that my brain must know, but not want let out. I’m a mumbler in general though, so I shouldn’t be so surprised. Still, I AM surprised, as my mouth is a constant frustration-inducer (it so rarely does what I want it to). I’ve mumble-sang in my sleep once before. That was interesting to hear about.

After so long of being irritated that nobody deemed these things worthy of telling me, I’m kind of glad now. Husband and I were talking about this a few days ago, and I got so uncomfortable at some of the things I do (the mumbling, which I wake him up doing because sometimes I apparently argue with myself, or some unknown person in my dreams [I call it fair because he wakes me up grinding his teeth and giving me the occasional *knee-jerk* in the rear], heavy sighs that also wake him up [I suppose I’m as discontent in my sleep as I tend to find myself while awake . . . such is the curse of nothing ever being good enough to suit me]) that I’d rather ignore the fact it happens at all.

Now, my husband also does some things in his sleep. There’s the teeth-grinding, which has lessened significantly from when he and I first met. But he, also, talks in his sleep. Not as often as I do, because I allegedly do it nearly every time I sleep, but when he does . . . it’s clear.

While in Alabama a few months ago, he woke me up doing such a thing and the only two words I heard were, “Soul cairn.” He’d been playing Skyrim and he loves video games in general (as do I, but his love for them goes above and beyond). What can I say? There’s not often that I can wake up out of a dead-sleep and laugh my ass off; I usually don’t consider myself awake until I’ve had my eyes open for at least an hour. I did that day. I laughed for several days about that. I’m laughing about it again now.

But there was a one or two week time period about two months ago that was just . . . unprecedented. I’ve only heard him say things in his sleep a few times (which might be due to the fact that I am generally a HEAVY sleeper), so when it happened three times in that time period . . . I don’t even know.

Once, he woke me up laughing. I asked, “What are you laughing at?”

He was dreaming about a dude on skis falling.

Once, while he was napping, I asked him where the extension cord was. He said, “It’s under the fish tank.” This was after we’d returned to Kentucky. Our fish tank is still in Alabama, with our former roommate. He didn’t know he’d said it until I managed to wake him up by VERY firmly saying, “THE FISH TANK IS NOT HERE.” He informed me he was dreaming about the fish tank that time.

The one that will forever stick with me was me walking into the bedroom to inform him I was going over to my mamaw’s to eat potato soup (I believe). He sat straight up in bed and literally almost shouted, “Good day!” at me. I thought he was saying it just to say it, as he seemed completely coherent and being strange/random isn’t off-base for him. Imagine my surprise later when I bring it up and get the scrunched-eyebrows-confused-face and, “Did I really?”

Good day! is now a running joke with us, understandably so.

I’ll probably regret posting about the weird things I do in my sleep, but who really cares?

Hopefully somebody gets a laugh out of it.

Dear previous owner of my cellphone number,

A year ago when I went into the store to buy a cellphone, I never could’ve known the trouble it would cause. It was my first awesome phone, rather than a passably cool phone. I was excited, especially given that I’d spent several years of my life cellphoneless and cut off from the majority of the world.

And then the calls started coming. I thought, naively, that they would stop – that they would stop after a certain amount of time had passed and all the people trying to find you, or your wife, or your brother (or whoever the hell you all are) realized that your number had changed.

They never stopped.

I do not appreciate having to have a spam-blocker app on my phone because of someone else.

I do not appreciate having to keep my phone on vibrate so the Doctor Who theme song that is my ringtone doesn’t cause my husband (or my sister) to wreck their cars while I’m riding with them. It’s always calls for you. People do not call me on my phone. People call you on my phone.

I do not appreciate waking up to a recording on my voicemail telling me that, if I am not you, to delete the message immediately without listening to it.

I do not like picking up my phone and hearing a recording about tax debt every other day.

I do not like vision centers calling about appointments for the female end of this trio of same-last-name-entity. Ten times in a year. How bad is your freaking eyesight?

I do not like all these recordings in general, as it gives me no one to speak with to inform them, “YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER.”

But they do not have the wrong number, do they?

No, because a person called – it sounded like a creditor or someone of that nature – and had a very interesting talk with me about how you’d given them this number JUST A WEEK AGO. I do not like being interrogated (asked my name on my own freaking phone) or asked, “Are you sure you don’t know [NAME].”

Yes, I am sure I do not know you. But I do know that . . . I’m quite positive I hate you.

I suppose this is what I get for being picky and asking for a phone number with as many even numbers as possible. This is what I’m going to call karmic-jackassery. It is my own fault, in that way.

You shall go unnamed here, but I hope on all that is holy that I never run into you (or that I never figure out who you all are past your names) because I’m quite certain I would throw something at all three of your faces. No, I wouldn’t really, but I like to think about it sometimes.

STOP GIVING MY NUMBER TO PEOPLE YOU OWE MONEY.

Thank you.

Have a wonderful life.

–         C

PS) By the sound of the voice of the man I spoke with very recently . . . he was not happy. I suggest you attempt – VERY HARD – to get your ducks in a row. It seems like you’ve got quite a lot of them. Thank you, so very much, for sending so many of those ducks my way. My life is so much more complete and wonderful because of all the little duckies quacking around.

🙂

Oops.

So I, um . . . lost track of days.

Clearly.

I just looked (knowing that I needed to blog) and realized it’s been exactly one week since my last post. My bad.

I guess I don’t really feel like I have much to say. I’ve been writing. Series is going. That’s all I’ve been doing. LITERALLY.

Wake up. Write. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

I’ve literally done nothing else. I have a (growing) list of things that I need to get done. I haven’t got to any of them yet. I’m consumed. I can’t help it. I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m able to type fast – at least the WRITING part of writing this will be done . . . well . . . at the rate I’m going? Pretty quickly.

My cat is driving me insane. Sorry, that was just a random bit of something, as she distracted me from writing what I was going to.

And it’s funny – I’ve actually got a few ideas to blog about. Two? Two is two more than I usually have when I sit down to do these things. Woohoo. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t touch your blog for a little while. Or maybe that’s just a coincidence and I’m going to CALL it something else to make myself feel better about not being on here.

I’ll try to get at least one of those entries posted soon. Got something to take care of tomorrow morning, and also have plans Thursday morning, so if I do it . . . it will have to be either Wednesday or Friday.

I haven’t been doing any social-type-things.

I haven’t touched Facebook in at least as long as I’ve posted an entry on here.

I only realized a few days ago that I hadn’t tweeted (is that the correct thing to say?) anything in like . . . 6 days. I can’t remember when that gap was, but it’s been recently. You see? I lose track.

Is someone going to smack me if I say that being like, “Oh, hey, I haven’t tweeted,” makes me feel like a [BLEEEEP]ing moron?

I talked to one of my friends, um, can’t remember what day it was, but I was talking to one of my friends the other day about having a nocturnal schedule and how freaking DIFFICULT it is to do things. In order to make plans, I have to spend several days messing up my sleep schedule, I can’t write the amount of time that I want to write, I do something for however long, and then spend several days trying to fix what I messed up. It’s quite frustrating. I do feel bad though. It makes communicating with anyone extremely difficult. I get a text (rarely, but it happens), find it when I wake up (which is usually after everyone else is sleeping), and then have to wait to text back until right before I go to sleep (which is almost pointless).

I guess that’s just another thing currently adding to my Guilt Pile.

Why is it that people feel guilty for doing things that are good for them? Or things that make them happy? Why should that make anyone feel guilty?

And really? Why in the world should I feel guilty for sleeping when I want to sleep?

I suppose it makes people think you don’t want anything to do with them, which isn’t the case at all.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired.

I say maybe, but it’s my bedtime right now. I just had to make sure I posted something NOW because the amount of time since I have is ridiculous.

Sorry for the lack of posting. I’m writing. Yes, I’m a horrible (HORRIBLE) social anything. I already knew that. If you’ve read . . . well . . . probably any of my posts, you’d likely realize I suck socially too.

At least I’m trying. That has to count for something . . . . . . .

Right?

That’s what they say, isn’t it?

Hope you’re all doing well out there and whatnot.

OooooOoOoOooOoooooh. *ding* Level Up.

So I just had a light bulb moment.

I’ve had the most uh-may-zing idea for this new series I’m working on.

I will be laughing maniacally on the inside while I’m falling asleep here in about . . . five minutes or so.

I know this isn’t much, but I was stoked, and just had to share.

Guess this just added to the workload. I’m not complaining.

WRITER’S BLOCK – BEGONE!

G’day, all. And goodnight.

I’ll be enjoying the 10000xp I just received from opening that chest hidden in the corner of the map.

Hello World. I am a moron. Nice to meet you.

You know that overwhelming feeling of panic that you have when you’re turning a doorknob and nothing happens?

You’re turning, you’re pulling (and YES, it IS a turn and pull door). Nothing.

And then your claustrophobia starts setting in. And then – in the span of about five seconds – you’re contemplating all the ways you could POTENTIALLY break this door to get it to open. And, “Hey, C. How ironic is it that you wrote a scene in one of your books, making a joke about a door being broken? BET IT’S REALLY FUNNY NOW, iddn’t it?”

Anyway, the door opened.

And apparently I’m talking to myself via blog.

I should probably sleep, but I can’t yet.

Wow. This isn’t as bad as jumping and nearly screaming when you catch your reflection in a pancake syrup bottle.

Hello World. This is me.

– C

Overwhelmed by the new WIP

The title says it all, doesn’t it?

I somehow managed to fix my sleep schedule back to normal (nocturnal) after that first night of coming home from Florida. So, for the past several days, all I’ve been doing is WRITING. Time has slipped away from me. I’m not ashamed of it, and I feel only slightly guilty.

Things are going well with this second book (so far). I’m writing it from another character’s perspective. Interactive. The story rolls on.

Here’s the thing . . .

I write a LOT of characters over the course of a series. I’m not even going to tell you how many were in S2. It seems natural to me. People meet other people. I guess it’s enough to be confusing if you have a difficult time remembering names. Normally, I don’t.

And you see . . . it’s not that there are a crapton of characters being introduced in these new books. There really isn’t. It’s everything else.

EVERYTHING.

I made up a new world in S2. Cities, small towns, etc. But it seems so . . . my god, I’m going to hate saying this, but it seems so basic in comparison.

Now I’ve got magic to deal with. Who can do what most efficiently. What it looks like when each of them use it (and its differences).

I’ve got creatures.

I’ve got dragons with names.

Ties. Families. Wars. Lineage. Kingdoms. Villages. Armies. Generals. Units. Laws. Punishments. More ties. Marriages. Kids. Taverns. Weapons. Soldiers. Secrets. More magic. SO MUCH MORE MAGIC. HAVE I USED THAT NAME? WHICH DRAGON IS WHICH? HOLY JESUS, WHAT COLOR DID I MAKE THEM AGAIN? WHAT’S THAT ABOUT REPRODUCTION? WHAT WAS THAT NAME? WTF IS GOING ON HERE?!

I uhm . . . I’m going to have to map this stuff out.

This will be a first, minus my little lists for sh . . . er . . uhm . . . craps and giggles. Lists of names, usually. Gotta make sure they’re not too similar (as I tend to do that occasionally). Lists of chapter titles. Lists of word counts for each chapter after each editing. Tallies of each cuss word and how many times they’re each used. Yes, I’ve got a bit of OCD. I like lists. And apparently the word each when writing the past few sentences.

But now I’m going to have to make detailed sheets, like . . . for each thing. It’s new. It’s made my eyes twitch a few times, thinking about it.

Anyway. What I’m trying to say here is, “Hey. I’m a little busy right now.”

I know I try to post every three days. I think I’m a day off right now. I might have to extend that a little.

Here comes the guilt.

We’ll say I’ll try to give an update and say hello every four days or so. I’m usually pretty good at responding to comments, but I’ve even fallen off on that. I’m just feeling very overwhelmed at the moment. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me, but honestly? I’m looking forward to it. This will be a new experience. New experiences – yaaaaaay.

So that’s what I’ve been doing. That’s what I’ll be doing. That’s what’s going on.

Hope all of you out there in the vast expanses of internetdom are having wonderful days and all that good stuff.

I sure am, despite the eye twitching.

I shall wave the shame fan in my own face for being such a horrible person and neglecting my social networking stuff.

Tired Rambling Pops Thought Bubbles…

So, Husband and I are all done with the actual moving part of the move…at least where it pertains to our physical selves.  Our things won’t be here for another five days or so, so we’re functioning as minimalists at the moment.  I’ve got the things I need (my laptop for working purposes, my computer for…er…uhm…computing purposes), and he’s got the things he needs (his XBox, his case of games, and our smallest TV).  Then we’ve got the cat and dog, of course.  That was a fun trip with the animals, let me tell you.

I’m still physically recovering from the speed-loading that we did a few days ago.  Me carrying a giant, awkward desk that’s at the end of its rope down stairs?  Well…let’s just say that it wasn’t very pretty.  It was kind of embarrassing, actually – the entire moving process, with me carrying anything that weighed over two pounds or so.  I think I might need to go to the gym and *cue music in my head* get ta workin on mah fitness.

…………..

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for just typing that.  Maybe nobody will get it and just think that I’m insane.  That would probably be best.  And it was a joke, mostly.  I can just go shovel rocks or something, which sounds like WAY more fun (that’s just my opinion…to each their own).

No, but really, my body feels pretty shot at the moment.  I’m having doubts as to whether my feet will ever recover and return to normalness.  Normality.  Oh.  Apparently normality is a word.  That’s nice to know.

I PROBABLY should not be blogging right now, given that my brain seems to be lacking its usual functionality.  I knew that functionality was a word, but I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate to have been used there.  Maybe it was.  Oh well.  I’m sure anybody reading this will know what I meant if it wasn’t.  This is generally the time that I’m most awake during the day (night), but my sleep schedule is still wonky.  By wonky, I mean that I’ve been waking up in the *gasp* morning, and going to sleep right around now.  Meaning…I’m tired.  And my leg is asleep from this HORRENDOUS chair that I’m required to sit on to compute at the moment.  I don’t know how my leg being asleep is relevant to the fact that I shouldn’t be typing anything right now, but………uhm………Yep.

Anyway.  Things are strange here.  Which is strange, me saying that, given that I’ve lived here most of my life (on and off).  Easy how quickly and completely I can forget things.  Things are much more simple, yet so much more complicated in some ways.  I’ll blame my lack of remembering the latter of those to some sort of purposeful forgetfulness.

To explain.

I am beyond physically exhausted.  Even after a few days of coming here, I haven’t recovered.  I’ve said that already, I know.  The point is…I haven’t sat down for more than an hour at a time since I got here.

I’ve walked around, I’ve helped my mom and my mamaw cook, I’ve cut up strawberries for shortcakes and cobblers.  I’ve picked some of those strawberries.  I’ve shelled some peas (yuck to the eating).  I’ve paced while talking on the phone.  I’ve done more walking around.  And then more walking.  And then a little more.

My feet freaking HUUUURT.

But anyway, I’ve gotten so bored during all the spaces between.  Apart from one bit of not-moving-in-between where I worked on a few technical errors in my book.  I was expecting that to take me days upon days upon days.  Nope.  That was my thing to do – my thing to keep myself occupied.  Now, I’ve got a whole lotta nothin’.  Oh my god, I’m even typing that way now.  I apologize.  Which reminds me…I heard my accent coming back out at some point either today or yesterday.  I didn’t lose it completely (it’s the way I talk), but I said something (don’t ask me what it was because I don’t have a clue) and it made my eye twitch.  It’s always so much worse when I’m around my family.  Why in the world am I even talking about this?  Because I’m tired rambling, that’s why.

Back to boredom.  I’m bored.

I could’ve typed this up yesterday, technically, since we set the computer up and all that.  I’m going to be totally honest and say that I didn’t want to.  I honestly don’t want to right now.  This chair is so uncomfortable.  SO.  UNCOMFORTABLE.  I was going to say that it’s almost as bad as sitting on a rock, but you know what?  I would rather be sitting on a rock.

I have a bit more time left before heading off to bed (YAAAAAAAY for air mattresses……Did anyone hear the sarcasm?  I hope so…)…so, when I’m done with this, I’m going to do as I said and do some looking around on here.  I’ll probably have a million blogs to catch up on reading.  That’s fine though.  I can guarantee I won’t get done with that today.  Probably not even tomorrow.  But I WILL get it done.  And it will give me something to do during the between times, when I have them.  Also………..crap.  Lost my little thought bubble there.

I’m antsy to get back to work.  You have no idea.  I’ll calm down whenever that happens.

 

 

I realize that I didn’t make any of the points I intended to make when I started writing this thing.  Well, that’s wrong.  I made a few of them, but not as well as I’d intended because I’m tired.  No big deal.

I’ll give more updates about what’s going on with the book (where it’s at, or where it’s going) whenever things are a bit more set in stone.  I’m trying to work out details at the moment.  And now I’m thinking about Merlin (sword in the stone) and wishing I could watch season five.  I’m whimpering a little on the inside right now.  I love that show.  You have no idea.