So, this story is probably not going to be funny without the wild theatrics of a live retelling. But I'm telling it anyway because remembering it makes me smile. And even giggle out loud a little bit.
My freshman year of college I lived with my super fab cousin, Gertrude Schlollom, in a tiny dorm room in Helaman Halls. Righteous little scholars that we were, we decided not to study on Sundays, so as to allow more time for flirting with boys--er, I mean, observing the sabbath. So that sometimes meant getting up early on Mondays to finish stuff up. One Monday, we both had big tests or something so we decided to get up extra early. Like 4:00 AM. I was worried that we might sleep through the alarm at that unseemly hour, so I turned the volume on my clock radio WAY up. And then we went to sleep.
I don't know if it was nerves, or just the apparently genetic condition that turns me into a crazy person in my sleep, but at some point in the night I got up and moved my desk chair to my bed. For reasons that totally made sense at the time, I positioned the chair so that the legs were sticking out into the three-foot space between our beds. With the back of the chair flat on the bed, I carefully crawled back under my covers went back to sleep, not at all disturbed by the chair on my torso. (This is where the wild gesturing would really come in handy, because this positioning makes no sense.)
Of course, it would have been impossible for us to sleep through the alarm when it went off like a tornado siren at 4:00 AM, and Gertrude and I were both instantly awake. The trouble was, I was pinned down by that pesky desk chair, and couldn't figure out how to get it off me to get up and turn off the alarm. So Gertrude sprung into action! She jumped out of bed and grabbed my alarm clock. Unable to find its tiny sleep button in the dark, she started shaking it. "Why won't this turn off?" she asked. I wasn't much help, as I was still trying to figure out why I was sleeping under a chair. Finally, Gertrude got the light on and the alarm off. It was only then that she noticed my impediment. "Why is your chair on your bed?" she asked.
"Because I thought it would make you mad if I put it on your bed." I said, only then recalling the sleepy dream logic that led to the middle-of-the-night furniture rearrangement. What I should have said was, "Because I'm crazy."
I am comforted to know that I'm not the only who goes a little cuckoo in my sleep. So I want to hear your "while you were sleeping" stories, either in the comments below or on your own blog. Go on! Share the crazy!