Slexting

In some people, stress manifests itself in the form of nail biting, hair pulling, leg shaking, chain smoking, continual runs to the bathroom, etc. For me, stress manifests itself in the form of sleep talking and more recently, sleep texting ("slexting" as I refer to it).

It's as though I come alive at night and morph into this creepy chick with a cheesy overzealous laugh (sounds kind of like this) and then get all up in everyone else's business.

Like sophomore year of college, first night with my new roommates in our small two bedroom apartment. My poor roomie Stebanie (another anonymous name) wakes to find me pulling her suitcases out into the middle of our room mumbling something about "UGHH these are ALWAYS in my WAY." Totally logical.

Or there was the time on a 9th grade family vacation when I leaned over to my best friend Meg, tapped her on the shoulder and whispered "pssst, hey, is Jimmy over there with you? Are you guys spooning?" Allegedly, later that same night I creepily tapped her shoulder again to ask "psst do you see that guy in the corner? No? He's over there, leaning down. I think it's Dylan." I think I made her cry.

The sleep texting has only come about recently and I fear has the potential to do some serious damage. It's hard to explain all the things running through my mind when I wake up to messages of "hahahaha." Actually no it's not, it's basically "oh sh*t."

A couple months ago, I sleep texted a guy I was newly seeing and said "hey, don't forget to grab the alarm clocks. I'm really going to need those." In my defense, he should have interpreted that as, hey she's prompt. In his defense, I think it was interpreted as, ok Ms. High Maintenance.

My most recent slext occurred last night at 12:34 AM.
To Meg: "I think I may have just accidentally sleep talked Mr. D..."
Last time I checked, you can't "sleep talk" someone, so now of course I'm paranoid that I accidentally sweet talked my high school basketball coach.