Wait I said what?

         I am rarely accused of being an active sleeper as of late considering I'm not sharing a room with anyone at the moment, but I did find myself sleeping on the couch because sleeping in my bed is still hard on my foot for some unexplainable reason (this statement is valid as I have tried to explain it and failed to my shame). Normally my foot doesn't care where I sleep but the surgery has made it all high and mighty. I miss the times when it was still ugly and therefore humble. Now it's treated like royalty and thinks very highly of itself. I hope I don't make the same mistake when I have children.
Annnnnywaaaaay- my trying to sleep in a high traffic area while exhausted lead to a confusing conversation with my dad in the early morning.

         I haven't had good reports of my night-time adventures since my time in Weatherford, Texas when my roomy was a light sleeper and we were frequently apartment hopping. I generally only do stuff in my sleep when I'm abnormally tired and sleeping in different locations constantly. Our fickle circumstance lead to a routine report of my dealings each and every morning. Most reports would recount a similar dialogue which began with me sitting up and desperately trying to get Elder Cardon's attention followed but some exclamation related to food. For example:

Me-                   !!!ELDER ELDER ELDER ELDER!!!!
The Cardster-     Ya?
Me-                   GUESS WHAT?!
The Cardster-    What?
Me-                   I've got a banana cream pie here, and man that's a lot of cream!
The Cardster-    Go back to sleep Ewing.
Me-                   Ya alright--

       Why? I don't have an answer for you. What I do know is that I cheated the poor guy out of a good night sleep often enough to leave me feeling like I owe him something. He seemed to enjoy it the first few times but shortly after he began to look at me the same why I look at Gustov, my satanic alarm clock. The alarm that somehow trained me to wake up seconds before the set time so I could narrowly avoid ungodly punishment. It's demonic chirping could wake the dead.  No question that alarm is at the top of my list of least favorite noises (right above the voice of Death himself).     Gustov I hate you!

        All in all I have come to the realization that I miss knowing what I do when I'm unconscious as it makes for a good morning discussion but I'm glad I'm no longer the cause of torment for those unfortunate enough to be stuck in the same room with me during my episodes. I apologize in advance. I also empathize for those tormented by demon alarm clocks. Please continue to retain your sanity.

Pinky Swear

         When I sit back and analyze the way my mind rationalizes things it's not only sad but at times quite laughable.  Sometimes I do right by myself  but this week has been a good example of how little I know myself. I  just got surgery on my foot and therefore have much time to spend confined to the couch. My first thoughts were "perfect, I will have so much time to do projects as I will now be relentlessly bored into productivity." As far as my blog is concerned I thought I would be writing constantly. What I failed to realize was that when you are stuck on a couch not much happens to you. This makes it difficult to have adventures or force epiphanies. Not impossible, but difficult. Despite the dullness of imprisonment I have decided I will commit to write anyway. It's not like I have anything better to do as we have already established. I may just have to reach into my past an retrieve some good stories I haven't told yet. I have a couple I think.

        After spending countless hours editing a video project for school I am quite fed up with video, but to show my dedication I will through a vlog about my surgery in there too so stay tuned.