I’d already been rather vocal about only wanting to be on the best team, though I didn’t need to be.
The stress I was under in the weeks leading up to the tryouts turned somatic the night before tryout day. I had a few emotional meltdowns in between, but the night before the big day, my physical and mental stress took over.
It is the middle of the summer, probably like July or so, with regular 100 degree days. I had been attending training camps for several teams over the past few weeks and was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.
I had one last talk with my dad before I went to bed expressing concerns for the next day and not wanting to make the “C” team, which he reassured me wouldn’t happen. So, somewhat assuaged, I went to bed to get a full night’s rest.
Upon waking, something very bizarre occurred to me. As I got out of bed, I noticed that I was in a completely different outfit than I had gone to bed in. I was in utter disbelief and immediately called my dad. He was incredulous that I didn’t remember what had happened. I told him I didn’t recall anything and asked him to tell me why I am dressed in my soccer clothes. He informed me that around midnight, I came into his and my mother’s room and shook him awake. When he woke up, I told him we were going to be late for soccer tryouts.
Without thinking, he jumped out of bed to get ready, until he saw his alarm clock that read 12:00 am. By the time he registered this, I had already wandered out of the room. He followed me into the laundry room and asked what I was doing. I reminded him about the soccer tryouts and that I was trying to find my shorts and t-shirt. He informed me that it was the middle of the night and that tryouts weren’t until the late afternoon. I immediately became flustered and frustrated, mumbled something incoherent, then went back to bed with my newly found soccer outfit.