On Sleep

I find that I can sleep almost anywhere. Floors, chairs, tables, nestled under desks. Sometimes its a bit strange since I'm over 6 foot and a svelte 215 pounds. I've slept in and shared all manner of beds. Singles, twins, fulls, queens, and the ever elusive king size. I've slept in hotels, motels, cars, campsites, docks, and in front of municipality buildings like I did last Sunday.

Bed choice is important. If you're sharing a bed, and assuming you both each only need one seat in the movies, the minimum size is a twin in the winter. In the summer its a full and I'm next to the air conditioner. Like girlfriends, bed sizes are seasonal.

I used to love to spoon when I was heavier. I'd pull girls into my bulk and it was nice. I felt like some sort of inebriated teddy bear. Now I find that I have all these odds angles for my arm and I just simply don't do it. I could always date a heavier chick, but I like being able to grab someone with one arm and chloroform with the other as I drag them into a dark alley. Occasionally I'll spoon with my dog. Not intentionally but I'll wake up that way with this furry hairy thing in my arms.

Like most people I dream. I won't go into most of what mine are about. No doubt they would both titillate and terrify, but what happens there is private. Sometimes I try to go back to my dream. I don't do it for simple things like being rich or famous in my dream world. I do it to get laid and get drunk. I'm not hurting anyone by it. The other night, as I lay with this girl, I thought of another girl I met who was quite well endowed and very flirtatious. So as I dreamed of her, I thought I was having a really awesome wet dream. It felt so real as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I made out with this other girl, sucked on her breasts, believing it was the girl from earlier. When I realized my mistake, I tried to go back to it but the veil placed over reality had been lifted and I went back to sleep. She asked me if I remembered in the morning. I lied and said I didn't. Lately though I've been dreaming of hanging out with friends and have a drink or three. Then I'll wake up in the morning and go back to bed so I can drink more.

Generally when I wake up and the sun is coming in through my window I pretend that I'm a corpse sans toe tag. I'm not just any corpse but a fresh one. The blood is clotting to my sheet. Usually I'm only partially covered as I lay sprawled out on the bed. I try to imagine what kind of significant bodily injury could make a person look like that. If its too far a stretch, then its amputated. I was always jealous of the murder victim, the kid without a seat belt, and the 12 story jumper. That sheet always provided a little bit of mystery. A cover for some sort of mortal wound too traumatic to be thought of by normal sane people.

Unless you're an EMT.

OK I might have hurt that girl in bed, but I'm not an alcoholic. I only go back if its something good.