There’s a huge mass in my throat. I must have throat cancer. I’m dying. Oh. My. God.
Have you ever woken up with crazy, anxious thoughts in the middle of the night? It’s happened to me on several occasions, and it’s almost always around four a.m. One time, I woke up convinced that my apartment laundry room had exploded, and soapy water was leaking into the grass outside. I had the window open, and the air smelled like soap. When I looked outside, I was convinced I saw bubbles in the stream. I even called my mom to tell her. As you can imagine, she was not happy with me.
In college, there were many nights where I didn’t go to sleep until 4 a.m. or later. Those were some…errrr…interesting nights. I would come into work with an array of crazy stories to tell, and I later found out that my colleagues thought I was drunk all the time, when the reality was I didn’t drink much in college. I was one of those rare breeds of college students who didn’t drink alcohol or caffeine because I was trying to eat healthy. (I know you’re saying I missed out, but believe me, I had just as much fun sober and didn’t have a stomachache the next morning!)
One crazy story I distinctly remember was when my friend and I were coming home from karaoke. We were both around twenty years old then, and there was this guy who was extremely intoxicated. He was from Minnesota and was passing through on his way to Texas, and my friend wanted to make sure he made it back to his hotel room safely, since he was also drunk driving. So, we followed him to his hotel, and I have to say I’ve never been more scared in my entire life. She parked and got out of the car (I stayed in the car) and wound up having a conversation with the guy. He wanted us to come up to his hotel room with him, which I’m grateful that my friend had the sense to draw the line there.
What were we thinking? Of course, my over-exposed-crime-show brain has run through the possibilities of what could have happened, but thankfully didn’t.
I suppose there’s a reason most writers get the majority of their writing done between sunset and sunrise. They take advantage of “Late Night Brain Syndrome.” I’m not quite to that point yet, because I enjoy sleep. Some of my dreams are more exciting than movies. I’m not in college anymore, and I need sleep. Plus, I’m crabby at my day job when I haven’t slept at least six hours the night before.
Do you have a crazy four a.m. story? Share it in the comments!
PS: A quick Google search revealed I’m not the only one who’s had ‘hallucinations’ happen in the wee hours of the morning. Someone’s cat was talking to them like an 18th-century Englishman!