I really should learn by now that I cannot wear underwear and a t-shirt to bed. Well, maybe I can, but definitely not when my room is 100 degrees, and I can’t put a blanket over me. I am still, unfortunately, afraid of the person waiting to stab me in my sleep.
Don’t tell me he isn’t there! I know he is.
Last night, I was so tired I fell asleep flat on my back on top of my blankets (so I wouldn’t make my bed messy) in my new cotton stretch intimates. Only my dreams would tell me how awful this idea was. I dreamed about naked people chasing me and my family because we told them to put clothes on; I found someones hands in a sink, and my Dad had turned into a vampire (I think the hands in the sink were a clue). It was horrible; at 6am, I woke up steaming, shaky, and uncomfortable. My sugar level must have been low too because I ate a nutri-grain bar and downed a whole glass of milk.
Then, when I finally settled down and opened the window more, I dreamed that I went to church in my underwear.
I’m going to do everything in my power to avoid this happening to me again.
