Tuesday, 9 October 2012
Anyone got a matchstick?
You know the feeling. Eyes heavy, weighed down with the need for sleep, yet as soon as your head touches the pillow your mind starts to race.
I wish it was possible to claim that my thoughts were full of rare pearls of wisdom, that inspiration suddenly strikes, that solutions to day-time problems are made crystal clear.
Instead, there is the usual reluctant realisation that here is yet another wide-eyed night, usually hot on the heels of a couple of others.
Reading works for a while, then the usual sense of frustration as the hours tick by becomes a need to get up and walk about.
Today (or rather yesterday), was cold and wet and by the time I had stood and got further soaked and chilled at the bus stop, October felt like January.
My guilty reward for suffering such treatment from the elements is to make a huge mug of hot chocolate as soon as I get in. This is not something for the faint hearted, consisting of no less than 3 spoonfuls of Greene and Blacks with 2 piled teaspoons of muscovado sugar.
I never take sugar in anything else, but somehow this combination is so totally decadent that it fills even my need for comfort.
Sadly, as I get older my self-indulgences grow more numerous by the day (I dread to think what type of centenarian I'll make), and the ease with which I give in to them increases hourly.
But, I digress, the hot sweet drink was followed by an overwhelming need to sleep and never one to deny temptation its full effect I did just that.
Do you think perhaps a two-hour sleep in the afternoon could have had something to do with tonight's insomnia? No, surely not?
In a few hours I'll be heading back to St. M's pale-faced, red-eyed and needing to be be on top form. Still working on the formula for that one.
I have a nephew who works for a National newspaper and who does all kinds of weird shifts, as do many other people, I know. They seem to be a different species from me and I am filled with admiration for the way they contrive to function with seriously disturbed sleep patterns.
About a year ago the choir at St M's were really busy with a lot of extra services and I found the sheer volume of work overpowering, so much so, that during one service I actually dropped off to sleep during the sermon (which was very long) and woke with a jump as the organist played the opening bars of the anthem.
Luckily only one person noticed and would have woken me if the organ hadn't.
Tiredness is a way of life for me but none the less irritating just because I'm used to it.
People say "well, you obviously don't need much sleep", and "it doesn't really matter, you're retired, it's not as if you had to get up early".
The temptation not to get up in the morning is not one I dare give in to. Definitely the first step down the slippery slope. But oh it would be nice to have a whole week of 'good' nights.
I'll stop whining and go back to bed . You never know, I ,might have a nice nightmare!
Posted by Ray Barnes at 2:46:00 am