June 3rd, 2004

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Keeping Secrets from Me

I’ve known for most of my life that I talk in my sleep. I’ve tried to warn people about this on those rare occasions when I’m sharing a room with someone. In college I tried to scare away roommates by mentioning this fact right away. Either they didn’t believe me or didn’t think that it would bother them, because as a warning it never worked. It was only months later, when they hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in forever that they started complaining. What could I do? I gave them fair warning. I’m a chatty little thing when I’m asleep. Sometimes lately, I even sing. And what’s there to complain about? If I’m talking at least I’m not snoring.

Yesterday my roommate mentioned that she’d been up about 3:30 and heard me laughing and talking from the living room. I was sound asleep. My first question was, as it always is, “What did I say?” and sadly, the answer was the same, “I don’t know.” As a sleep talker, this is frustrating. What if I’m giving away all of my good secrets? What if in my sleep I know the secret formula for cold fusion? Okay, that is a little extreme, but as a creative person I’m dying to know what it is I’m saying. Here is a whole aspect of my own character that I cannot examine. As a writer, that’s very frustrating.

I’ve tried trying to decipher the meaning of my dreams, but dream dictionaries never account for the way I dream (usually in black and white, and always with credits at the end, like a movie). I mean, what does it mean if I dream that Clay Aiken and Jason Mraz are fighting over my affections? There’s never a definition for pop star love triangles! Then there’s the question: If I’m dreaming about that, am I giving anyone who might walk by a play by play? For goodness sakes, what am I saying?