Bugger me if I know, so I thought I would ask you.
Remember the time that I talked about my obsession with weather? Well, the past few months I have been awaking and asking all members of my family…
“Did you sleep well?”
Yes, I am just that exciting. Envy me at your will. And I think my infatuation with a quality slumber is because of the fact that it seems I am unable to achieve it. Much like endorphins and exercise. Or intelligent reasoning and Trump.
And it is irritating me no end. Gone are the days where you would jump into bed with your book, read a few pages, get blissfully sleepy, switch off the light and fall into deep slumber, only to wake eight hours later in the exact same position that you remember being in when you turned off the light, but with the delightful addition of a large pool of drool on your pillow.
No need for a midnight piss stop. No need for anything.
In the past few months my sleep has been less than ideal. And it comes down to the fact that my body temperature needs to get a service. I fall asleep ok, after a few minutes of trying to calm my thoughts but then a few hours later, I wake up and I am hot. (and not in the good way) And so I throw off the covers, act like a cat as I scramble to find the penultimate position to continue my evening of twisting and turning.
A few hours later I wake up and I am freezing. And need to drain the main vein to make the bladder gladder. So by the time I get back into bed (at this stage usually around 4am) I am fully awake.
I burrow under the covers and resist the urge to turn on the radio. So I toss and turn and curse myself. My mind starts to think about the following day and all the shit that needs to get done. And then, an hour later the birds start their song and the blind’s edges start to glow with the rising of the sun, at this point, and only at this point, my body goes into that delicious deep where you are still and your mind is dreamless.
And so then when the alarm goes off, it startles me out of my sleep.
Eventually I get out of bed and stagger to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and the person looking back at me appears to have been on a four day bender with Keith Richards, despite in real life going to bed sober and at 10pm the previous evening.
So I am sorry if the headline of this post has been a lie. I don’t know how to sleep anymore. I am thinking of booking a night nurse, of perhaps putting myself on the Tresillian waiting list.
Are you like me? Forgotten how to sleep?
If you have the holy grail of all things slumber, for the love of Pete please share!