Sleep demolition

My wife was rudely awoken at 4am this morning as, stark bollock naked, I wrenched a very large and very heavy mirror from the wall. She asked what I was doing and I apparently answered, in a very pissed-off manner, “I’m taking this off the wall”. Mirror removed and two large holes in the plasterwork later, I announced with some satisfaction, “I’ve taken it off the wall”. At which point I went back to bed.

I’ve no recollection of this, because I was fast asleep at the time.

It seems I’m an occasional sleepwalker, so for example a few months back my wife woke up to find me stomping around the bedroom in a state of extreme irritation because I couldn’t find the secret stairway that led to the garden (a stairway which, of course, doesn’t exist). I’ve no idea why I wanted to go to the garden, or why I needed to do it naked in the wee small hours.

Still, it could be worse. A few years ago a friend told me about her husband’s nocturnal adventures, and recounted one particularly memorable incident where he sleepwalked into the living room, pressed eject on the CD player, urinated into the CD player, closed the tray and wandered back to bed.