Funky light fixtures and sleeping funny

The past few days have been . . . weird.

I've been weird. I've been falling asleep all over the place, and while I've been generally happy, if you were to catch me a bit after 8 p.m., forget about it. I've been sort of a wreck, possibly because the overhead light in my bedroom has burned out.

Me, R, and C (roommates) were all trying to change the light bulb, but first we had to unscrew the light fixture. And me and C had been working for awhile, but it was screwed on too tight, and we had no pliers, so finally R gets up and goes, "Well, I'll give it a try."

I was all upset, and C was laughing because it was late and I was tired and it just SUCKED, and I was saying things like, "I hate this! Stop it, fix it! I don't like it." and "The light's been burned out for like three days and I'm just sort of dying inside and I kind of want to go drown myself in the shower."

So then, just as R had clambered up on the chair to try to unscrew the light fixture, I couldn't even help myself and I go, "Hey, doesn't the light look like a giant boob?"

And so R looks up and her hand is touching it, and she screams and jumps down and won't touch it, and C gets all hysterical.

But, guys.

Seriously.



That's what I light looks like.

If that's not a boob, I don't know what is.

Can I help it if I'm more observant than anyone else in my apartment?

The other awesome thing that's been happening in my apartment is that, apparently, I talk in my sleep.

And it's HILARIOUS.

This morning, R says to me that I was talking to her last night, but I crashed around 10:30, so I had no idea what she was talking about.

Apparently, I rolled over when she came in and I go,

"We are NOT having this conversation."

And so R is like WTF, and then I actually woke up and mumbled some excuse about how I was talking to her in my sleep, when really I think that I was having a conversation with MYSELF in my dream. Yeah. Trippy.

And then like five seconds later I fall back asleep and go, "But really, we aren't having this conversation!"

About an hour later, I wake up again a bit and R knows that I haven't taken out my contacts, so she goes, "Do you want me to leave the light on or turn it off?" (This is her lamp, of course. We don't have a real light on account of it being burned out and also it being a boob.)

And I go: "On!" And then I rolled over and refused to talk to her.

I remember none of this, but poor, confused R just left her lamp on all night, and now I feel all bad.

Moral of the past couple of days: Keep your anatomy-related insights to yourself.