What the galloping gonads? Insomnia!
I"m very tired, grouchy and a little bit fuddled right now, and I'm fairly certain I look alarmingly like Worzel Gummidge.
Last night due to a combination of not enough booze and no sleeping tablets I suffered terribly with a slap in the belly load of bloomin' insomnia. Now I know I am not alone in this, I know lots of you have it. I know some some of you cope very well with it, or at least are decent enought to struggle on in a cheery sort of way. But not this fatcat. I hate insomnia and I hate it so much I am going to moan about it with gusto.
First of all it is a tricksy little fucker isn't it? Creeping up on a gal, like some kind of would be mugger. There I was, tired eyes, the bigger of the cats snoring gently away on the pillow next to me. I put my book down, turned off the lights sighed, got comfy and the BAM! It was like someone shot me in the arm with a whack job load of contrary-isms.
Suddenly the duvet was too heavy, the mattress uncomfortable, were my eyes open or closed? Ergh, did that pillow just poke me in the neck, my shoulder hurts, I don't like sleeping on my back, ouch, now I don't like sleeping on my sleepy side, my other shoulder was in the way, the cat's snores were reaching the cresendo jets make when they take off... was that a shaft of light? Was it? Was it? Wait a minute, how come I can hear those cars? I never usually notice them. Shit, are my eyes open? I hope I didn't get Etheline in the shit with my mother, I wonder will I get that job next week? I'm so behind on my projects, stupid Memnoch, oh why does the Paramour keep talking about that house like I"m suddenly going to fall in love with it, It looks even worse in the rain, why don't I fall in love with it, maybe I'm afraid of commitment, no, that's silly, is it though, maybe it runs in the family, look at Etheline, eeeeek, no you're being stupid, I really must get that mole on my back looked at, I"m fairly certain it has changed shape and that's a sign isn't it? Oh Jesus I'm sounding like my mother, I will I will, next week, had enough doctors for this week, Stupid Memnoch, Jesus, I never noticed how loud the bigger of the cats snores, I wonder is that normal. (I poke him) He huffs and starts purring. Jesus now that is loud, ow, don't knead. Pool old Puddy, maybe I should let her sleep in here instead, no, she always wants to get up in the middle of the night, still, poor Puddy, God I'm so far behind in my work, I'll never catch up, no stop saying that, of course you will, you just need to put more hours in, stop faffing about and going places and reading blogs, do a good five hours in the morning...what time is it? Sheeeet, it twenty to fucking three! Go asleep! Maybe I should take a sleeping tablet, at least I'd get some sleep then, no wait, that cross doctor told me to stop taking them, well, that's all very good, but he's not lying here with a mountain of work on tomorrow, now is he? Shit. I-ten past three? How the fuck did that happen? Go asleep, go asleep go asleep. Oh Christ I"ll never do it. My eyes are definitely open. That's it I'm getting up. Everyone says that's what you should do...
So I got up all right, got up took a sleeping tablet and was asleep half an hour later, blissfully unaware of any sounds or thoughts.
I don't care what a cranky doctor says, Sleeping tablets=sleep. And that's good enough reason to take them for me. The very last thing I need is to meet my worried subconsciousness- at any hour. And If I have to be a pill-popping booze hound to beat its sorry arse so be it.
Insomnia, I'm against it!
(by the by, if anyone knows how to actually tackle it without slithering into a drug induced coma, I'd like to hear it)