always on

Apparently, I checked my email in the middle of the night, saw that I had received a meeting invite, noticed that the pass code to join the phone bridge was too short and that there was no dial-in for the European invitee, and sent this email, which I found in my Sent Mail this morning:


"J---- can you make sure the pass code on your bridge is right, it looks short. Also, c---- will need the international number."


It's somewhat curt, it's missing a comma in the beginning, and the second name isn't capitalized, but over all, not bad for a sleep email.

car talk

Boyfriend and I were in New York last weekend, and we got off the red eye and picked up our rental car to drive two hours north. Boyfriend always accuses me of sleeping whenever we're in the car, so I made a special effort to stay awake and talk to him. I fell partially asleep, anyways, and ended up dreaming while struggling to appear alert and engaged. Our real life conversation morphed into something else in a dream conversation, and for some reason, I thought we were talking about how Asians (and apparently my family in particular) try to blend in and integrate into American society, and so I told him:

"We wear turtlenecks around white people."

I don't wear turtlenecks, and I have no idea why turtlenecks would improve integration.

dunkin' granola

Yesterday morning, I woke up and looked at my nightstand to see what I had gotten up to the night before. I had apparently been very hungry, as there was one empty granola bar wrapper, and another half-eaten granola bar. The half-eaten granola bar was still in its peeled-back wrapper, kind of like a half-eaten banana, and the whole thing had been rather purposefully jammed (open granola side down) into a cup of water.

I was so ravenously hungry when I woke up that I fished the waterlogged granola bar out of the water and ate it (despite the fact that I hate soggy food) before I was able to muster up the energy to get out of bed in search of other food before getting ready for work.

nursing my wounds

I woke up this morning to discover that I had somehow managed to hurt my right ring finger in my sleep. I have no idea how this happened, as there is nothing sharp near my bed. I woke up and saw in my Google Reader feed that my friend Wendy had just posted something about her tendency to hurt herself, especially her hands, so I blame her.

When I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for work, there was an open tube of Neosporin on the bathroom counter, which means that I must have gotten up in the middle of the night, found the Neosporin, smeared it on my finger, and went back to bed.

This means that I not only can't remember hurting myself in the middle of the night, I also can't remember treating the injury in the middle of the night. Who knows how much Neosporin I used in my sleep -- if it was a lot, then it's smeared all over my sheets. I'm glad the cleaning lady is coming today, so that I'll have fresh sheets.