Stress and Soffit - or - Is There Such a Thing as Sleep-Carpentry?

Happiness

Shortly after we were married, Grant took a job as foreman at a housing plant.

Where they built pre-fabricated homes.

He was good at his job.

And it was two minutes from where we lived.

He was home for lunch every day.

As well as for breakfast and dinner.

For his new bride, life was perfect.

For the man actually going out to work . . .

It wasn't.

The job was very stressful.

Many bosses.

Several without any knowledge of building.

Any knowledge.

He carried on.

For two years.

He had a family to feed.

But the stress started to tell.

He developed health issues.

And stopped sleeping.

That's when he started making noises about going to school.

Grant had been in school when we started dating, but had quit to take a job after we were married.

Now, he realized that he had made a mistake and wanted to correct it.

I was unconvinced.

How would we provide for ourselves if we had no income?

So he continued on.

Growing more and more unhappy.

And sleeping less and less.

One time, he suddenly snorted, sat up on the edge of the bed and started getting dressed.

“Honey, where are you going?” I asked. “It's 4 AM.”

He jumped and looked around. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.”

He pulled off his shirt, lay back down, and was instantly snoring.

Is there a term for sleep-dressing?

Probably . . . sleep-dressing.

Moving on . . .

One night, around 3 AM, I was sleeping quietly.

Suddenly, Grant shot up in bed, grabbed me by the collar of my pyjamas, pulled me to a sitting position in the bed and shouted, “You hold the ladder! I'll nail the soffit!”

My sleep-fogged brain vaguely discerned that these were 'house-building' terms.

“Honey, you're dreaming,” I said, rather shakily. “Go back to sleep.”

He wasn't to be deterred.

He shook me slightly. “Okay?!”

“Okay!” I said.

“Good.” He dropped me and flopped back onto the bed.

Seconds later, I could hear his soft snore.

He had been asleep the whole time.

I, however, would probably never sleep again.

I was finally convinced.

Grant went back to school.

He studied History, Arts and Anthropology.

Finally achieving a doctorate.

His health instantly improved.

As did his sleeping habits.

He no longer sleep-dressed.

Or roughed up his wife.

And you can bet that the installation of any soffit was in broad daylight.

With real hammers.

And real soffit, for that matter.

Going back to school was a good decision.

Though with two tiny babies and a wife to feed, it had seemed anything but.

It just took some convincing of said wife.

Fortunately, he was a good convince-er.

Hmmm.

Sometimes, I wonder if he was really asleep . . .