Sleeping Beauty

I think that the people I live with might be crazy. Please consider the following exchange:

Flatmate: You’re trip to Birmingham was good?
Me: Yeah, it was alright
Flatmate: It must have made you very tired.
Me: Not really.
Flatmate: Well, we knocked on your door last night to see if you wanted to have dinner. We knocked really loud; but you slept through it. Then we called the phone in your room and it rang very loud but you did not answer. You are very heavy sleeper.
Me: Oh, actually, I was not there last night. I went out to a pub.
Flatmate: Oh, really?

Now, my first thought was: why didn’t they realize that I was not there after banging on my door; but then I thought, what in the world is wrong with them? If they really thought I was asleep after coming back from England, what would possess them to continue to try and wake me up and call my phone to see if I wanted to have dinner? Did they think they would make me up and that I would stagger to the door and say, ‘oh great, I was asleep but what I really want to do is how dinner with you guys instead’. This does not bode well.

Later days,