Goes bump

I woke up this morning wearing a different shirt than the one I wore to bed. And I have no idea why. Which is weird. But not unusual.

I've never injured myself sleepwalking, but I did once (allegedly) reach under my roommate's covers, grab her feet, and yell "gotcha!" I locked myself out of my freshman dorm room twice. I've answered the phone and had conversations. I've gone downstairs and accused a group of people of leaving a snake in my room. I've woken up crouched on my couch in a fighting position. I've woken up on the floor in my closet. I think I talk every night, still; it's a wonder I haven't given away all my secrets. I'm sure I'll make short-order of that on this blog, though. My vault door isn't so much a door as a rice-paper screen.