I didn't sleep well this past week.
Usually at camp I have to have 3 or 4 naps a day to make up for my normal sleeping pattern. However, dealing with crazy Grandma and other things that seemed to endlessly require my time, I didn't have the chance.
One afternoon, after a particularly stressful night of Grandma coming to my door at 3am in her nightgown and no teeth to discuss Davy's impending need to be put down, I decided I needed a nap. I had half an hour. I set my alarm, put on my sleep mask (O thou glorious invention) and settled in.
I had just fallen asleep. I know I had, because I remember consciously thinking "Hey, I'm asleep!". Suddenly, something touched my back.
Now, I'm a jumpy person anyways. I'm not a fan of people touching me if I haven't specifically prepared myself for it or added them to my mental list of people allowed to touch me. If I'm asleep and I don't know anyone is in bed with me? That list is no more. So, I do what any unconscious person with something scary that drags them out of sleep. I screamed. I flailed my arms and legs out to the sides and I screamed.
It was Grandma. She had put her hand on my lower back to see if I was okay. I'm pretty sure I took an extra year off her life (go me) because she was as scared as I was. I assured her I was okay and I was just tired. Finally, I fell back asleep. Then, at 2 minutes before my alarm was to go off, Grandma's friend came in to tell me what time it was and to ask me about doing laundry.
I hate old people.