My own worst enemy

When I know I have to get up to open the coffee shop, it's hard for me to sleep. I can't seem to get those dangit-I-only-have-three-more-hours-of-sleep-before-I-have-to-get-up-at-an-ungodly-hour thoughts out of my head long enough to relax and actually get some quality shut-eye.

Besides, I can never actually get myself to crawl into bed before 11 p.m. because then I just feel ridiculous staring at the sunlight filtering through my curtains.*

But I fell asleep relatively easy last night - even though it was well after midnight - only to be jolted wide awake a little after 2 a.m.

"What the hell?" I thought to myself as tears escaped from my eyes and flowed around a sharp pain emanating from my face - specifically my nose.

It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened. When I sleep, I dream vividly. And in my dreams, I was fighting off vampires. (Full disclosure: I'm nearing the end of "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyers. Even though it's essentially a teenage love story - in which the human protagonist falls in love with a vampire - I easily read 250 pages in one, four-hour sitting. It's that good.)

And apparently, while I was sleeping, I was fighting the vampires with one of my arms stretched straight up toward the ceiling with my fingers curled into a fist. Then, gravity did its thing when I simply let my fist drop... right into my nose.


That's right: I PUNCHED MYSELF IN THE FACE.


And I wasn't even mad when I woke myself up with the stabbing pain. Even though it really hurt, I thought it was hilarious.


I went to wake up Brent, who was sleeping soundlessly next to me, but then changed my mind and decided to let him stay in REM sleep. He looked so peaceful. Apparently the vampires were only attacking me, and I ended up hurting myself.

I swear I can't even make this stuff up!

*May be a slight exaggeration, but that's how it feels.