The other night, my husband had trouble sleeping. Which means that I too had trouble sleeping.
It all started at 12:45 a.m. when he rolled over and sighed loudly. I woke up and asked what was the matter (which probably came out more like "wuzzamahr" because I was still half-asleep). He proceeded to tell me about a dream he'd just had where he was being chased by a ghost. "Good thing I don't believe in ghosts," he chuckled before rolling over and--I thought--going back to sleep. I followed suit.
About three hours later, I was jarred awake by a loud thump coming from the basement. I rolled over in bed to see if the noise had also awakened my hubby--but he was not in bed. The noise turned out to be him, slamming the lid on the washing machine. He then proceeded to come back to the bedroom, and when I asked if he was okay he explained that he hadn't been able to go back to sleep after his dream, so he'd decided to do a load of laundry. Then he said he was going to sit up and watch some TV in the living room. Thinking this was a better choice than his normal solution to insomnia (which amounts to tossing and turning and making loud, pitiful sighing noises until I yell at him), I shrugged and went back to sleep.
Not long after that, my hubby struck up a conversation with one of our cats. Notice I didn't say "started talking to one of the cats" because this was not a one-sided discourse. He asked a question, the cat would meow in response. He replied to the meow, and the cat reciprocated with another meow. This went on for a good five minutes before I threw my pillow over my head to drown it out.
I woke up again when he came back to bed at 5:00. He managed to fall asleep fairly quickly after that, but I was not so lucky--his snores kept me awake for quite some time. I think perhaps I will teach him the fine art of progressive--and silent--relaxation for the next time this happens.