"When you sleep, where do you fingers go?"

I wear a digital Timex Ironman. It is very reliable. So I had to raise an eyebrow when I looked down a few minutes ago to notice it was 2 hours 14 minutes slow. And it said it was Monday.

My first thought was that the battery was borking. Then, almost immediately, thoughts of last night came pouring into my head. Now, I remember a good portion of my dreams -- I think the brain drugs are largely responsible for that. But sometimes, I'll wake up, and a dream will be just ... out ... of ... reach ... like it's right there on the tip of my memory, but I can't access it until I see a person or a place or an object. Then, the whole mess will tumble forth as clear as day.

That said, my watch is proof that I wasn't dreaming. I clearly remember waking up -- it had to be around 3 a.m. -- with the overriding urge to set my watch. "Why does my watch say Tuesday? Tomorrow's Monday! Stupid watch ..." I remember thinking. So I did the most natural thing in such a situation: I set the date back to Monday.

Now, my watch has five buttons and it's not easy to set. (Hold this, push that, use this button to move forward, use that button to move backward.) So I can only surmise that I inadvertantly changed the time in my late-night urge to remedy the date on my watch (which was fine to begin with). In the dark. In the middle of the night. On a Tuesday.

I'd like to blame the sleeping pills or pre-bedtime meditation for my strange watch-setting episode. But I've been doing weird nocturnal things long before I needed pills or practiced meditation. I'll wake up and realize I've taken all my rings off and put them on different fingers. Or they've not made it to my other fingers and they're scattered on the bed. Or I'll wake up and my hair's in a messy ponytail. Or my bracelets are on the other arm. Or I've pulled the pillow out of its pillowcase. Or Paul will wake me up and tell me I'm moaning again. (Get your mind out of the gutter! When I talk in my dreams, it comes out in moans instead of words.)

So now that I've got my watch back to the right day and time, I'm going to finish my sammich and get back to editing 1,100 lines of SQL output. Yay! ::sighs::

Anybody else developed strange nighttime habits? Fortunately, I'm not like a friend of my mother's, who would walk to the fridge and drink dill pickle brine straight out of the jar. But I'd be interested in knowing what others have done (or allegedly done) in their sleep.