I've woken up laughing and woken up feeling like I'd been crying, but until last night, I'd never woken up screaming.
I had gone to sleep in the usual way. Finished Seventh Heaven by Alice Hoffman (Oh, I am loving her) and settled down to sleep. Now Mike, who snores like a beast and likes to sleep to the TV, often sleeps in the basement on our couch, especially now that it's hotter and he's sick-- so I had the bed to myself, which I can't say I mind.
Anyway. Last night, I rolled over, while still asleep and my eyelids fluttered, and I saw an impossible spider the size of my hand, (leg thickness like the fingers and just as long), something I'm fairly certain doesn't exist in this hemisphere, but my brain said Yikes!, and I jumped backwards out of bed, screaming and shaking, terrified it'd somehow gotten into my clothes or hair. I stripped my bed, looked under and behind my bed -- and nothing. I tried to return to bed, but couldn't bring myself to actually get beneath the covers and close my eyes.
I ended up joining Mike on the couch -- thank goodness it's one of those huge sectionals, so we each had our own couch basically. I KNEW the thing couldn't have been there. But even now, in daylight, I find myself waiting for it to scuttle by, a skeleton hand of a spider, and I imagine myself crushing it, listening to its exoskeleton's crunching bones.
I just can't shake it. And I keep thinking, Dang it, I wasn't asleep when I saw it! How else did I get out of bed screaming? Unless in that very first movement and the beginning of that scream I was still asleep.
The whole thing has sufficiently creeped me out. There is a very good chance that I'll be joining Mike on the couch tonight, snoring, T.V., sickness and all.