Jan 7, 2019: Late

Sleep has not been kind to us in this house, this year.

The other day I was wide awake until about 4am, getting up at one point and coming downstairs for a couple of hours of uncomfortable couch lying before attempting to sleep in a real bed again.

I think I was awake longer than necessary as I tried to understand how, during the day, lying on the couch can snatch me away to dreamland with alarming swiftness and yet when I actually want to enter the land of nod it’s like lying on a bed of nails.

And then, not wanting to be outdone, Carole has not been sleeping particularly well either. I can only assume that’s from the fact that I have to constantly slide her back across the bed so that I can get into the bloody thing without becoming entangled in a leg or, as with last night, lying with an elbow pressed into my cheek.

This morning, Carole had an entire conversation with me which – I gather from the way she text me about things I hadn’t done when she got home from work (I was at work myself) – I seemingly agreed to do. I remember none of it. I remember being awake when she was getting ready. But I don’t really remember much more than that. I’m not sure I was awake-awake, if you know what I mean. I remember putting on a podcast presented by Beattie Edmondson after Carole left for work. I remember it being funny as it started. And then it had ended.

And then I remember it being something past eleven in the morning.

I was awake and ignoring Carole up to around half-seven when she buggered off downstairs to pack stuff up for work, and headed out to earn the money that keeps us in the lifestyle to which we are accustomed. I started the podcast not long after that – clearly alert enough to locate it, start it and put my phone somewhere safe so I could listen to it.

And then, bosh.

Four hours gone.

Obviously I needed the sleep. That’s fairly clear, otherwise I wouldn’t have just slept like that.

But I can’t admit to it. There’s something inherently wrong with sleeping until that time in a morning. I don’t know what it is. But anything past nine am is fair game for judging. And I was way beyond that. I was into student territory.

Disgraceful.

But bloody lovely too.