Why, Yes I Am

I haven’t been sleeping well lately due to pregnancy and anxiety over my senior thesis (thinking makes it hard to sleep), so by the time I got to six o’clock last night I was dragging pretty hard. I ended up falling asleep at about 7:30, thinking that I’d wake up at 4 or 5 to write the last page or so of my thesis, review the rest of it, and send it in. Kyle, of course, went to bed later than I did. So when my alarm went off at o’ dark thirty and he sat up to get ready for the day, I said, “No, no, go back to sleep. The alarm’s only for me.”

He proceeded to mumble something largely incoherent, but the only thing that really came through was “You were right, you were right” over and over again. He was clearly addressing me.

Knowing that he was sleep talking, I nudged him back to sleep and got out of bed smug in the fact that even while sleep talking, Kyle still knows who is right. I’m not sure what I was right about, but dangit, I was right.


2 thoughts on “Why, Yes I Am

  1. I stumbled on your blog by accident! Now, I’m gonna subscribe. I am so sorry you’ve been so sick. It is so difficult, I know. I always felt quite depressed while sick as well. . . I cannot comprehend the women who look and feel well, are peppy, and/or have no issues being pregnant. The lucky ones who go along like there isn’t an alien growing inside them, making them feel and look like death warmed over. Truth be told: I think more women are sick and miserable, but tend to suffer in silence.
    In the Dowding family, whoever is pregnant gets carried around on a satin pillow and generally doted on. It is a HUGE deal and everyone acts like it is. None of this casual dropping of a calf for us!

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