You will know, if you’re a long time friend of mine, that I’ve been known to do stupid stuff in my sleep.  Not just snoring, but laughing, trumpet playing, alien spotting, walking, hand grenade dodging, and sprint into the closeting.

So, if a normal person said ‘I had a terrible night last night, kicking in my sleep’ you’d think they were probably new to speaking English, but perhaps meant, tossing & turning & kicking the sheets off.  But if I said the same thing, you might know something more interesting than that was up, and unfortunately, yeah, you’d be right.

What I did was get up, plant one hand on either side of my wardrobe, and kick a hole through the wall.

You will recall that I used to train in karate a lot, a long time ago.  Apparently my karate retrained instincts still work, pushing my body into a pretty decent form, even in my sleep, which I guess is interesting – and probably means it’s still no problem for me to kick your arse.

Just one beautiful stroke, and no harm done to my foot.  But plenty of harm done to my wall.

My foot was, in fact, only stopped when I hit the wooden boards that make up the far side of the wall.  So yeah, oops.

Please understand that this all seemed perfectly reasonable in the context of my dream – someone with a gun was on the far side of the wall, and had just locked me in, I figured I had to take any element of surprise I could, and attacked them through the wall.  Obvious, right?

Now, I might not be a doctor, but I have a hunch that this all means I’ve been living with some sort of anxiety.  What do you think?

Anyway, as I awoke, standing there holding my wardrobe, and recoiling my leg back to the ready position (for a follow on mae keage, always one of my favourites), with the slowly dawning knowledge of what I’d just done, wondering if I’d actually shouted what I dreamed I’d shouted (“You’re going to regret this!”), and then realising that even if I hadn’t actually shouted, I’d probably just shaken the whole fucking house with a mighty crashing thud…  And what would my neighbours think?

So embarassing.

I really far prefer laughing myself awake, or humming the star spangled banner to keep a calliope running, let me tell you.

To make up for it, today at work I put together a papercraft ceiling cat, and taped it up above my desk.  It looks osome. Here he is, gazing down on me as I w**k.

I also had a really fucking awesome night out tonight with my wife of two months.  But perhaps we can talk more about that some other time.  Right?  Right.