PT and I have always been on very different schedules. He has been known to work far into the night and then come to bed anywhere between 2 and 5 am. For a while I got used to it and didn't even wake up or acknowledge that he just stole all the covers. Lately, however, well, since I have weaned myself off the sleeping pills, I have been waking up when he comes to bed and engaging him in inane conversation.
Me: Can you do me a huge favor?
PT: what?
Me: Can you get me a glass of water?
PT comes back with water. I drink 3/4 of it.
Me: thanks. Can you put this somewhere. I can't put it on the window sill because I am afraid the cats will knock it over.
PT takes glass.
Me; I just had a dream where I was bitten by a rabid dog.
PT: Can i get into bed now?
Me: And then I had to go to the hospital and get like 3 shots...
PT: they only give you one shot for rabies.
Me: Oh, well then the shots were to delay my ovulation. And THEN i had to take a vision test!
PT: Why, cause you couldn't see the dog before it bit you?
Me: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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