One time in college a friend called my dorm room at some ungodly hour and I answered with as much chippery-ness as I could muster. I was determined that she would not know that she woke me up from the recurring dream where me and Kenny the hot RA were about to kiss. Determined.
“Were you already awake?” she asked like it would be crazy to be awake at that hour (to which I would like to ask THEN WHY THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING?)
“Um, no, not really… your call woke me up. What’s up?” I answered STILL really cheery.
So she was all, “Wow… you sound really… happy,” in a tone that clearly meant, “Are you on drugs?”
I wasn’t on drugs. But I do like to respond, as nicely as possible, when people talk to me. Even if I’m asleep or about to fall asleep.
Wanting to respond, no matter my state of awareness, means that I do a lot of nonsensical talking. Especially to Mark. I don’t know how many times Mark has told me that he would ask me a question, thinking I was awake, and get an answer about my thoughts on Fox News and how the cats MIGHT be aliens.
One morning Mark and I had to wake up extra early and I reached over to check the time on my phone. Instead of grabbing the phone I ended up swiping it off the dresser.
Mark: What was that?
Me: I knocked my phone off the dresser. (I said this into my pillow because that’s how everyone talks at 4 in the morning)
Mark: Oh, you’re still asleep.
Me: No, I’m not.
Mark: You say the weirdest things when you’re sleeping.
Me: I’m NOT sleeping! I knocked my phone off the dresser!
Mark: Quit talking in your sleep.
I can’t describe to you how distraught I was in the middle of this conversation. It was like someone telling you that you’re dead when you’re so NOT dead but they can’t hear you so you’re wondering “Well maybe I AM dead and being dead doesn’t feel any different that feeling alive…”
You know that feeling, right?
And he was being so serious. Like I really was talking all non-sensical when IN REALITY I was making perfect sense. Perfect.
Me: I AM NOT ASLEEP.
Mark: (silence because he’d given up on talking to crazy woman)
Me: Give me a math problem. I can do a math problem.
Me: Give me any math problem. I’ll do it and prove that I AM AWAKE.
And that’s when it hit me that if he thought I was talking in my sleep before then demanding to prove Pythagorean’s Theorem at 4:15 in the morning was not going to “prove” anything other than, well, I was crazy. And more than likely talking in my sleep. Nothing I could do would have proven my awakeness.
And I still get mad at him when I remember this.