Aside from kicking my ex-girlfriend a few times in my sleep, the weirdest two things I've done involved fishing, a bunk bed, and the job I was working at the time.

The first time, my parents had taken me out to visit my grandparents in Eliot, Maine, and I caught six fish.  For an eight-year-old, I was very proud.  When I came home that night around six, I was tired and my parents put me to bed.  I remember the deep red light of the sun that night as the clouds rolled in.

The next thing I remembered, I was back in my bed, but I was soaked, and my mother said she had just woken up to hear the screen door slamming shut.  She had run out the door just in time to see me walking up the driveway to the road, and she had called out and asked what I was doing.  According to her, I had said "I wanna catch more fish!"

The second sleep weirdness happened a few years later, when I was a kid working in the produce department at Market Basket.  I dreamed I was in the store cooler, surrounded by tall stacks of boxes.  I had tried to get to the doorway but the stacks started to collapse, so I started pressing against them as hard as I could.  I could feel the surfaces of the boxes touching my pushed-out hands in my dream, but no matter how hard I pushed, the boxes kept falling in, threatening to crush me.  I woke up yelling at the top of my lungs, and my brother was mad at me, but I saw why the dream was so real: as a kid, my arms were a little shorter than they are now, and when I pushed my arms out in my dream, I pushed them right up to the ceiling so the elbows locked and my hands felt the ceiling tiles.  No matter how hard I thought I was pushing, nothing was happening, and I wasn't damaging the tiles either.

Weird.