Well, last night was fun. The hours flew by, all of them awake until about 5am when I crawled into bed to try and get some sleep.
I had invoked the sofa and duvet technique, lying down all snuggled up with my book but, for probably the firsr time ever, those elements failed to result in any sort of sleep. Maybe I should have watched a bit of Westworld – that sends me to sleep like nothing on Earth, apart from maybe any of the Alien movies.
But as uninterupted time goes, this morning was joyous. It was kind of like a novel experience, a holiday from real life in which I got to do what I wanted – albeit mainly silent things – with no-one chipping in. I played a decent chunk of a game that has sat unplayed for months, I read a massive chunk of a book and I spent a good amount of time drooling overcurry recipes.
It was awesome.
I’m not doing it again, though. I’ve been bloody knackered today and, despite my best efforts, did succumb to a nap on tge couch this afternoon – so the magic still works, I must just have been immune last night.
I’m in bed now, as it happens. Trying to regain some sort of control over my body clock.
There are children up later than this.