As usual sleepless and bored I find a use for what is left of my brain by semaphoring anyone else who may be sharing the night hours with me.
It strikes me as odd that there is no pattern to insomnia (mine anyway), and no apparent cause.
Neither being overly busy, or particularly idle the previous day seems to have a bearing on spending the night wide-eyed or blissfully unconscious.
Too old to care much about my baggy-eyed appearance after a sleepless night I am still aware that my brain functions on a single cylinder and at about half its normal speed the following day, which is not a desirable state for someone who still likes to appear to be in possession of some of their faculties.
Watching night-time TV is not for the faint hearted, and is either over stimulating, or excrutiatingly dull .
I have abandoned my book (Richard Osman's excellent "The man who died twice"), because I want to make it last rather than read it all in one go.
Talking to myself , while not unusual, is unrewarding at this timeof night/morning so silence reigns.
I am not, after all these years, seeking a non-existent cure for sleeplessness, just an idea of some other way of filling the long boring silent hours when all good folk should be abed.
