The old “I’m having too much sex with Brad Pitt to get anything done” excuse. Haven’t we all heard that one — one too many times?
PW – Parental Warning: If you are my parents, please refrain from reading!
The other day I was telling my Mother in Law about my latest dreams in which I’m working out. Sure, it could be the fact that I’m obsessed with The Biggest Loser, or that my new favorite pastime is finding new cellulite dimples, but whatever the reason working out is on the brain and these dreams are totally annoying. I’m waking up exhausted and I have nothing to show for it (other than sweaty sheets). Listen, I dread workouts in my waking world, so why would I want to waste those enjoyable “sex with Brad Pitt hours” at the “sleep” gym?
Yes, this is how I would imagine Brad Pitt at my sleep gym. I find lycra has more give than armor, but to each his own.
So she mentioned that there are people who actually get a workout in their sleep. I’m betting there are people who have sex with Brad in their sleep too.
Hello Angie, I’m talkin’ to you!
Though, I assume when you’re married to Brad Pitt, he does all the annoying things every husband does, which leads to this inevitable utterance during sex, “Brad, you just finish up while I: Watch The Real Housewives, stick pins in my Jen and Justin dolls, make a birthday card for Mad, or Shiloh, or Pax (when you have 6 it’s bound to be someone’s b-day), file my nails, read The Suburban Jungle …”
I guess Angie can’t never use the old “while I imagine I’m with Brad Pitt”. Nope, she has to slum it in her sex fantasies with someone like Rob Pattinson, or Ryan Gossling, or Johnny Depp … poor thing.
“Didn’t you ever watch Oprah?” my mother in-law inquired, snapping me out of Angieland.
“Was she on Disney XD?”
“She had people on that did all kinds of stuff in their sleep. They’d eat, clean, garden … cook. One of them tried to strangle his wife with the string from her hoodie and didn’t even get jail time.”
The magic was with YOU all along
Wow, I had no idea how productive one could be when sleeping. Here I am, wishing for more hours in the day, when they were there all along.
To think, all these years I’ve been using my sleep to explore my carnal desires for movie stars I will never meet, and to deal with those ego shattering incidences that I’ve repressed since middle school.
“Now, these people on Oprah that you speak of, were they complaining about their afflictions?”
“Well sure, they’re in sleep therapy, and studies. They’re trying to find cures.”
“Are they freaking nuts? They’ve found the answer to a more productive fountain of youth (if you will) and they want to get rid of it?” Look, if we get to pick which sleep disorders we are plagued with, I call sleep cooking, then sleep cleaning, sleep aerobics, sleep showering, and sleep sex. Wait, scratch that last one, as you know, I’ve already mastered it.
Seriously, let’s take a second here to contemplate what would happen if sleep accomplishments could be taught? The next Hollywood workout craze would be “Slumber Jacks” (cardio for the upper body) and let’s not forget the potential for Tony Horton’s newest video line, P90Zzzzzz.
Frankly, I’m certain a few celebs are ahead of the curve. Ryan Seacrest, Steven Speilberg, and Martha Stewart, who up until now I was sure were androids or at the very least vampires, are clearly doing sleep stuff.
Take Martha, who can cook a multiple course meal, invite friends to eat it with hand written notes, make season appropriate place cards that are not only edible, but look like wreaths, and can be reused as lingerie drawer sachets, and still has time to make shady deals and verbally abuse the help? (That’s just breakfast.)
I’m going to try giving myself subliminal messages all day. If all goes well, I’ll awake in a bed that is already made. I’ll be refreshed, clean, and moisturized. My thighs will be firm, my buttocks taught, and the smell of lobster risotto and bananas foster will be filling my home. If all does not go well, I may strangle my husband in his sleep. I’m gonna do a pro/con chart on this one, but I’m thinking the reward outweighs the risk.
PS- Mark if you’re reading this, don’t sleep in a hoodie.
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Very funny Jenny. I’ve done a lot of sleep time workouts with Angelina or was it my wife? They are both beautiful intelligent and compassionate women, though I have a feeling my wife is much easier to live with.
In my experience there are no Brad Pitt creatures at the gym…just varying degrees of douche knockers and people with the scent of a ripe water buffalo hanging in the air around them.
I dream about my teeth crumbling out of my head. SEE, IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE!
Ooh that’s a rough one. Yes, I will admit sex with BP beats teeth crumbling… some days it beats waking up!
I’ve mastered at least one of the sleep-whatevers.
It’s called “sleep-napping”. Yep, I can take a nap while I sleep.
I’m amazing, I know.
Oh, I love sleep napping I try to do it daily. I’ve noticed I can nap and do a bunch of things, like play Barbie’s with my daughter, officiate fights between my kids, and answer any ridiculous question my husband asks ie. where do we keep the screwdrivers? How do I get the forks out of that thing in the dishwasher? Where do we keep the forks? Where do we keep the dishwasher? See, so I too have skills!
Oh, I’m a master at that one. Hey, I too am on my way!
Too funny! If only I could clean house in my sleep. How lovely it would be to wake up to a clean house every morning!
this is genius. i have four kids, rarely sleep, and you are telling me i can actually be productive! hallelujah. i LOVE it. wish i had known this before!!! cannot wait for the pro/con post! ;o)
LOL — the con list was short!
This is so funny, and just rang so many bells for me. Hmm, you and I need to talk about Brad Pitt, Jenny. I believe we’re sharing some of the same fantasies! I blogged about mine back in September. I don’t know if it’s good etiquette to link to it here (apologies if not), but you might enjoy it: http://hometruthsfromabroad.wordpress.com/2011/09/02/fantasy/#more-92
Keep ’em coming Jenny, you always brighten my grey English day.
What I take away from this post is the following:
in my dreams Brad Pitt is TOTALLY cheating on me.
I’m devastated.
It’s called ambien. I have friends who take it before bed and wake up to taco bell wrappers, walmart bags, and even happy husbands without any recollection of their activity from the night before. I took it for a while and lost a whole season of Laguna Beach because of it. Fuck, I was pissed.
Great post;)
Jenny- you are freakin hilarious! I love this!
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Wow, Jenny! I think you’re onto something here! Exercise while we’re sleeping???? Count Me In!! Maybe in my dreams I could actually run a 5K instead of just trotting along, and I could probably hold all the yoga poses correctly. I am loving this idea!
I know right. I may start flying with wings. I bet that would be a great workout. You can do that when you sleep you know?
My husband said that I tried to kill him in my sleep once, that I held a pillow over his face and applied pressure! This totally freaks me out! I am already a super duper klutz in real life and have accidentally hurt him several times in waking hours, but now, he is not even safe when I am sleeping! Super freaky.
Consider two twins?
Yeah, I used to think Brad was pretty dreamy until he cheated on sweet Jen with Angie while filming Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Between that and that scraggly moth look beard, now I just think he’s a putz.
He still does it for me… I only blame her. I know that sets us back like 50 years right? It’s not because she’s the woman, it’s just because he’s too hot to blame! (Oops, I may have set us back farther.)