I occasionally sleepwalk when I sleep somewhere new.
We moved house when I was 12. Not far at all, just round the corner, but to a bigger house. Being twelve years old, I helped out with as much lifting, carrying, hefting, pushing and Being a Grown Up as I could. By the end of the day I was thoroughly tired out. I sat down with my family to the eagerly-awaited takeaway meal and could hardly keep my eyes open. After the meal, I trudged sleepily up to my new room and climbed into my old bed.

I woke up because I was cold. It was very quiet and dark, I'd guess around 3am. I looked around and thought, "that's odd, I don't remember coming out to the garden." Shivering and looking down at myself, the realisation slowly dawned that not only was this the garden of my _old_ house, but that I'd inexplicably taken off my T-shirt and was sitting on cold damp grass in nowt but a pair of old boxers.

I was twelve. I'd been asleep. The boxer-clad parts of me had done what they tended to do when I was asleep at that age and were clinging damply and rather tightly to my, er, embarrassment.

To this day I don't know if anyone saw me. I wasn't a sporty kid, but I don't think I have ever run so fast in my life.
( sanityclause is waiting until, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 22:35, Reply)