It was my friend, Pat, who told me I laugh in my sleep.  We met up in Florida after some 40 years of friendship and not having seen each other in person for all those years.  We had reserved a hotel room and stayed up way too late at night talking like a couple of little girls at a slumber party.

My husband confirmed that I laugh in my sleep. After that I sort of paid attention and my laughing  seemed to coincide with a big ol’ snore – I assumed I was giggling to cover my embarrassment at having made a sound akin to an elephant’s trumpeting.

Last night, I woke myself up laughing, but it wasn’t a snore that did it.  It was a dream, the subject of which escapes me despite my instructions to my conscious brain to remember what it was about.  It was damned funny, whatever it was, because I woke myself up with a laugh but then drifted back to sleep and kept laughing as the dream progressed.  All I can really pull together is that it seems that there were some high jinks going on with some friends – there are so many likely suspects in my life in the high jinks department that it could have been anyone.  I know I was giggling as if I was in cahoots about something.

I must say, it is fun to wake up laughing, and I am grateful that I am not waking up screaming or scared or angry.  It makes me feel good about myself, that’s for sure, that I can laugh even when I’m sleeping and that my dreams really are, if not sweet, at least delightful.