The Somnambulist and I

Pizza is Delicious

2012-03-06T02:21:00.002-05:00

We are fortunate to live in a city whose pizza is second only to Italy. There is no such thing as bad pizza here, at least not really. The worst quality a person could accidentally bite into is probably considered acceptable anywhere else, even decent.

However, we rarely eat pizza, though some neighborhoods are practically paved out of the delicious, doughy crust. In fact, there are approximately six reputable pizzerias in less than a mile radius from our block, so we feel tempted to chow down on mozzarella grease and garlic bread often.

My half had black olives, spinach, mushrooms, and pineapple on it.
Excellent pizzerias serve fresh toppings, but these were canned.
The end result was still incredible.

I caved in to a steady craving for pizza after work last week and brought home a large pie to share between the two of us. P wanted leftovers to carry us through the weekend. Anyone out there who has ever had the delicacy of a cold slice for ~~breakfast~~ brunch knows that this opportunity is something I could not pass up.

P was exhausted from completing a work-related project and did not feel like eating yet, but gave me his blessing to start without him (or did he? I'm not sure). In my defense, the mouthwatering smell filled up our apartment and could only be ignored for so long. I ate, turned off the television, and left P to finish his nap.

About forty-five minutes later, I heard the TV kick back on and went to greet P. He was still asleep, but 1/4 pizza slice lay upside down on his t-shirt.

"Do you want to finish this or should I throw it away?" I asked him softly, knowing that he sometimes answers questions while asleep.

He startled awake and stared confusedly at the crust before waving it away, replying, "Yes, throw it out, please."

Unsurprisingly, P does not remember eating the pizza. He also woke up (for real this time), wrapped up the leftovers, and placed it all in the refrigerator - while I slept! He's great.

I won't pretend that I'm not nervous now since finding out that P may be an occasional sleep eater. We will have to keep "dangerous" (see: all) foods away from his napping grounds from now on. I don't want him to accidentally choke because he subconsciously decides to rest and have a snack at the same time. The thought frightens me more than a little, but we had a good laugh about it at the time. Yikes.

Wandering Ghost

2012-02-17T12:45:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, P and I hang out in separate rooms, away from each other because a little space in a relationship is very healthy and he likes to watch television when I want to listen to music or vice versa.

On an evening last week, P was, well, somewhere else and I was typing and listening to music in the other room. He fell asleep and could not be roused awake easily. I thought it best to let him be for a little longer and continued working.

Awhile later, P walked into the hallway, stopped in the doorway between us, and smiled. He gave a little wave with his hand. I waved back. He paced from the kitchen, back into the hall, and returned to the living room. Silence.

A half hour later or so, I heard the floorboards creak and looked over. P was up again. He stood in the hallway with a deep set scowl on his face. I waved. He did not. P walked briskly into the kitchen, back into the hall, and returned to the living room. Silence.

He repeated this cycle about four times before I ventured back to where he was and woke him up.

P recalls feeling very agitated because somewhere deep in his mind he knew he needed to wake up and prepare for the next day. If he were awake, he would have ironed his clothes, packed his lunch, and set the coffeemaker for the morning. P did not accomplish any of these tasks. Instead, he fell into a sleepwalking loop- walking around, feeling more upset, and settling down only to resume his restless pacing again.

He hypothesizes that our cultures conceptualize ghostly wanderings from historical experiences with sleepwalking. This line of thought makes sense as many believe ghosts roam in an attempt to finish important tasks that were not fulfilled in life.

"I am practically a ghost when I sleepwalk," he mused as he fell asleep for the night once again.

Great.

The Goat-Climbing Mountain

2012-02-11T17:26:00.001-05:00

The Somnambulist has the best dreams. Sometimes, I envy P.

Read about an old one I like to call The Hyphen.

Introducing the Somnambulist

2012-02-10T01:02:00.000-05:00

I suppose an explanatory introduction is in order. This blog, The Somnambulist and I, was inspired (five minutes ago) by my long-term boyfriend's penchant for sleepwalking (and talking). We will refer to him as P, and I am Rae.

It's only fair to share the limelight and give P some well-deserved public attention (and ribbing) after his unconscious antics left me with a total three or so hours of rest last night. He can't help it, which makes recounting everything all the more unbelievable and funny in the morning. We're high school sweethearts and in our mid-to-late 20's. We live and work in a big city and talk about getting married after completing graduate school. I finished a post-master's program this past Fall and he will be done this May. We're almost there!

P is smart, kind, hilarious, handsome, talented, and hardworking, but this blog isn't about his numerous wonderful qualities, though those traits will reveal themselves over time. It's about the good stuff I only get to see and hear, from exasperating moments where he stands suddenly on top of the couch during an unanticipated nap, frightening me with his catlike movements to the hysterical, like when he requests a glass of water and spills it all over the bed while exclaiming, "Why would you give me water when I'm sleeping?!"

He's been a sleepwalker since childhood. Thankfully, he rarely places himself in harm's way and his nighttime alter ego (though more sarcastic somehow than his daytime self) is more interested in staying in my good graces than arguing about going back to sleep.

In a way, this blog is a begrudging nod to this alter ego, affectionately nicknamed Casanova P. My P is jealous of Casanova P because he whispers all the right things and tries to initiate make out sessions similar to when we were besotted, hormonal teenagers. Though I love me some Casanova P, he's kind of a jerk (P's description- not mine!). See, Casanova P falls back asleep after waking me up thoroughly, but also resets P's alarm clock to hours later than he's supposed to and will claim to be awake while making eye contact. You can't trust P's sleep self. He's smooth, but has a very short attention span and is only interested in fulfilling baser instincts. He has no follow through skills, but retains an excellent poker face.

P says, "There's no subjective experience of sleepwalking. You got to witness it all; I wasn't there." He has nothing to share at this time. I will hold out, nag, and hope he will contribute to this site occasionally. Regardless, everything written here is true and published with P's blessing.

The National Sleep Foundation estimates that up to 15% of the general population has the propensity to sleepwalk, or experienced an episode at some point. There must be other sleepwalkers with sleep-deprived loved ones who can appreciate these tales and laugh along with us Casanova P- he chuckles in his sleep too.