An open journal from nights with a sleeptalker.


With the discovery of Big Fisch’s severe gluten allergy, came the demise of his frequent sleepwalking.

Out went his previous poisonous diet, and in came restful sleep. It was like magic! Well, for him anyway.

But for my love of storytelling and your entertainment? It was a tad disappointing.

Not all hope was lost, however. We soon found that after long days of studying into the wee hours of the night, Big Fisch’s mind was not always able to disengage from his intellectually stimulating pontifications. Quite the contrary, actually.

On more than one occasion, I’ve awoken to his exclamations about his career planning, his classes, and observations of life’s absurdities.

Other times, it appears he just hasn’t had quite enough chatter in his day (how is that possible?), and is determined to continue conversation through the night, whether I’ve chosen to engage or not.

I seem to have no say in the matter, which is quite disgruntling. After all, it’s my bedroom too, is it not? And a bedroom is intended to offer a quiet space and restful escape.

So like many inwardly frustrated individuals, teetering on the edge of insanity, I turn to journaling to log these experiences and embrace the safe, free, non-judgemental therapy.

Alas, as many of you faithful friends have inquired about Big Fisch’s sleep activity, here are few entries my journal would dare to share, had it the ability to speak….

October 6, 2015

3:02 AM

It appears Big Fisch is looking for a lost treasure, or perhaps an idea that has escaped from his mind’s grasp, hoping it will be left alone for the night. I was awoken to his sudden movement as he shot up in bed, looking all around him:

“Mmmmm, no not here!”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he slowly scans the room.

“Ttt-ttt tt-tttt tt-tttt.”

(He stops scanning, swings his feet up, and jumps up on the bed in a squatting position for one last hunt of his treasure gone missing.)

“Ahh. It’ll come back to me! Mmm HA!” (He flops back under the covers and appears to be out.)

I sure hope his lost treasure has a successful escape.


October 20, 2015


Either I haven’t been providing Big Fisch enough attention, or he has a supernatural ability to see what most human eyes cannot. While in the midst of a peaceful rem cycle, I was awoken by the sound of his voice. He laid on his side, head propped up in his hand, as if we were lounging in a park on a Sunday afternoon…

“Hey Layla. When you look over there (points out to the living room), it looks perfectly like a monkey standing. That’s why I keep stopping and saying ‘HELLO! How are you?’”

Please help. Big Fisch ate the last banana earlier and I have nothing to give this monkey spirit as a peace offering.


October 25, 2015


Big Fisch has really taken to this whole “networking” concept. He seems determined these days to cut through the bull, and get down to business. I fear he will scare off those who are less intense in their aspirations. He just declared…

“I’m a fun nerd. Now let’s talk politics.”

“So you’re on a Board? Perfect! I just want to start a company, you see.”


November 5, 2015


Big Fisch has been very reflective and nostalgic lately as he’s crossed over the half way point in his first semester. I’m glad he feels eager to share his experiences, but I worry he may need to apply a bit of a filter…

 “Uhhh, so what have I learned? Well, I’ve drunk around a lot, goofed around a lot….”

Hmm. Mom and dad would be so proud.


November 12, 2015


Big Fisch seems to be at it again…losing sleep over life’s mysteries that he’ll just never fully understand. I sure hope he can soon come to terms with it all.

“Ha!” (Sitting up, hands thrown out at his sides, looking incredulous) “Ew! What are those stupid little things called triangles anyway, and why are they even here?!”


November 20, 2015


Dear Journal. I think I’ve turned down Matt’s desire to discuss the sciences one too many times. He seems to have taken up interest in talking to the wall in his sleep, as an outlet for exploring his theories on quantum physics. Perhaps I should fake interest more during the day, in order to protect my precious time of slumber…and end his love affair with the wall.

(Sitting up, eyes wide open, speaking to the wall) “Generally when data is out of its realm, it’ll slap you twice and call you Nancy.”


So there you have it my friends. From one (psychotic) journal, to the next; just another night in the life of a sleep talking-walking-studying-theorizing fisch.


Off to brush up on my quantum physics facts.

Until next time,

– Tiny Fisch