Everyday during breakfast, mother and I face each other on our small, blue table where we eat our hearty meal: bread and coffee, and it is perhaps the aroma of coffee that sparks a memory within her – that of my talking while sleeping every night.
I can’t tell you what I said during those nights when my subconscious plays with me; really, it’s embarassing.
Okay. So perhaps what triggered this behaviour is my constant lack of sleep. Because of so many paperworks that need to be done – a research proposal, a short story with a minimum of 10 pages, 5 or 6 poems, and the endless thematic analysis of short stories in class – I could hardly catch long hours of sleep. Plus, I just joined a soccer team, and unfortunately on my first day, I sucked.
When mother told me that embarassing news about myself talking to sleep, I immediately thought that perhaps I was talking to myself about soccer and how I definitely did suck.
(Well I just realized too that I need to find out if I have this sports-driven spirit within me. Anyway, I haven’t enrolled myself for a P.E. class after my college sophomore year because I’ve already completed my four P.E. classes. So I guess I missed flexing my bones and muscles, and finally decided to try soccer. I’ve never played this sport before so you can just imagine how stupid-looking I had been in the middle of the field. They made me a keeper, I don’t even know what that means, but well, I stood there anyway.)
What alarms me though is that mother may hear me say something horrible in my sleep. Or something sexy. Or not. Ha. And then I’ll get busted and reap twice or thrice the embarassment I deserve. Ha.
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