Warning: This post may include TMI for some folks. You can stop here and cruise on to the next blog…
I have never been able to sleep in the nude. I know plenty of folks do, and that’s fine, but I can’t. That is, I can fall asleep that way, but normally I wake up shivering and cold and have to put on at least a T-shirt because my neck and shoulers aways get cold, regardless of the season or weather. In the winter time, I’ve been known to sleep in numerous layers, so much so that G. worries I will strangle myself.
Over the last few years, since I have reached a “certain age”, there are also nights when I wake up feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of water over me. Let me tell you, trying to sleep in a tangled, damp shirt is no fun. So, I’m up in the wee hours, fumbling about in the dark for a dry shirt, and then trying to get back to sleep.
Yesterday morning, a wierd thing happened. G. woke up before me (unusual) and got up to let the dog out. I heard her, and slowly began to come to full consciousness. I began to be aware of a very strange sensation under the covers. I realized I WASN’T WEARING ANY CLOTHES! Yet, I had absolutely NO rembrance of waking up, even enough to toss off a sweaty shirt. But I must have, because I most definitely had a shirt on when I went to bed.
It’s not a big thing, but it was just a very odd feeling–kind of like taking a nap in the late afternoon, and waking up after dark and thinking you’ve slept all the way through till the NEXT day.
Anyway, I was giggling like hell by the time G. came back to bed, and she proceeded to inform me that in the last few weeks I have become increasingly “grumpy” while asleep–hogging the covers, mumbling and shoving her, and now, apparently tossing off my clothes. I plead not guilty by reason of unconciousness.
Yep, getting older is definitely a big hoot!