I, A Napper

For some reason, this week my sleep patterns have been all over the place. I haven’t done anything different in terms of getting up or going to bed, but I’m just not sleeping as well as I should. And when I do I have the dreams about being on some sort of transportation – bus, train or whatever – but unable to get where I need to be.

I suspect it’s just a build up of worry about what the world is going to be like post-GDPR. I mean, that must be it.

So, I think I managed about four hours sleep last night.

It got to midnight, and beyond, and I just wasn’t sleepy. At all. I lay on the couch and read for a while, which is normally sufficient to make me doze off and suffer a Kindle to the noggin. But there was nothing. I read, I finished the book I was on, and I was still awake.

It got to about 2am and I thought I should probably go up to bed. And when I got there, and got snuggled under the duvet, Carole woke up and started frantically searching the bed for her “headscarf”. Which, apparently, is what she calls the sleep mask that she’s started using now. A sleep mask which she appears able to remove in her sleep, so that it ends up somewhere else in the bed.

That’s no surprise though, she also does a similar thing with her earplugs. They end up everywhere. There’s nothing more exciting that treading on something small and squishy in the dark bedroom and really, really hoping it’s an expelled earplug and not something Peppa has brought in, or coughed up.

And then I was awake again around six, when Carole got up to go for a run and all that jazz. And because my body hates me, that was that. I couldn’t get back to sleep. The bed refused to be comfy. Peppa had sharp edges. I was awake.

Since then, I’ve tried to catch snippets of sleep throughout the day.

And every time I’ve tried to sneak a nap, or a quick ten minute eye rest, the bloody phone has rung.

My mum started it off, then Carole phoned a couple of times and in and amongst I had some telemarketers who got as far as “Is that Mr Sh….” before I growled and hung up on them. Partly because it wasn’t Mr Sh… and partly because I just wanted to get a teensy bit of sleep. Just enough to tide me over, so that I can go to bed tired and actually fall asleep.

Until the “headscarf” goes missing again, obviously.

Then all bets are off.

Much like the sleep mask.