I have written before about my sleepwalking tales.
I was reminded of it tonight as my fiance took his Work Yoghurt to his night shift, which subsequently exploded all over his bag, as I had cracked that bastard open and dug into it during the night. And, as I do, completely forgotten about it. I bet it was delicious. At least, in this case, the evidence was over his bag, and not over the bathroom where I have sleepily taken food to eat on the toilet. Daily I glare at my calorie diary and wonder, “How in the bollocks have I gained weight?” Daily I find crumbs, little traitorous things, sneaking from kitchen, to bathroom, to bedroom, to slightly damp morning face.
I find sleepwalking both quite ridiculous and quite fascinating, so share with me your tales of sleepwalking!
Filed under: Bipolar Disorder