Sleep talking...on the phone?

Okay, so there are times I've been told that I talk in my sleep, or rather I mumble. Whichever. There have been times that what I've said and done is fairly peculiar. Let's consider the time I had my wisdom teeth removed. I was on some wonderful medication and it really knocked me out at night. Well, there was an instance when I apparently woke up and assumed the television was on and it was talking. There was no program mind you. I literally thought the T.V. was talking to me. I put my finger to my lips and my response was, "Sh! You'll wake mom up." After I blinked in anger a few times, I then blinked in confusion. The television was off and I realized I was talking to an inanimate object. Now, I can clearly blame the meds for that one.

Last night, however, is a completely different story, for I was on no meds of any sort, prescriptions or OTC. It was around 11:48 pm by the time I got off the phone with Will. I was already falling asleep, like I've done so many times previously. Not fifteen minutes later, I woke myself up after the fact that I thought I was still on the phone with him. It took me two whole minutes to realize that wasn't so. Before my realization, my hand was pressed to my ear, where the cell phone would be, and I truly believed I was still talking to Will. I don't exactly remember what I said, but I assume since he was the last person I spoke with then it's an obvious reason why I thought I was still speaking with him.

After I found out that I didn't have my phone in my hand, I looked to the desk where it was still resting in it's little holder. My verbal response? "What the hell?" I really had no idea why I was sitting up. (Well, technically, I wasn't sitting up. I was on my stomach and my arms were supporting me.) Whatever the reason, meds were not to blame.

So, yeah. Now we can add the rare occasion of sleep talking to the "Random Things" list I do. I can't believe that even when I'm sleeping I can still be spontaneous. I really don't know how to explain it. If I truly cared enough to pay attention and actually give a damn about my psychology class, maybe, just maybe, I'd better understand it.

So the options are:
1. Lack of sleep.
2. Chinese food.
3. Financial stress.
4. Medication not to blame.

Now that my life is somewhat back in order, I can go on with it. There's only two weeks until the big move and I am both excited and nervous. What a ride!

Laters!