I am awake. It is 06.20 in the morning and I am awake. There is no good reason why I should be awake as I am a) dog tired (why the canine reference I wonder – most of the dogs I know [admittedly that is not a lot as I am allergic to mutts and are more of a “cat person”] are annoyingly perky and bark a lot to hide the whoosh of their wagging tails – I would have thought “cat tired” [all our furball baby seems to do is sleep, eat and poo in that order] or “sloth tired” was more appropriate) and, b) I do not need to be up until 07.15. A rare opportunity for a lie in, wasted.
I am tired because I was up early yesterday. Well, when I say early, I was up before the cat and our manic neighbour who lives his life as if he is participating in a Japanese endurance show. Actually, l lied about the neighbour. Of course he was up before me. I just wanted to use the endurance show line as I thought it was kind of apt. Anyway, I was up fairly early to catch a train to the Smoke.
I worked quite hard yesterday too. This included responding to a 150 page tender document that was written by kindergarten children (I am struggling for a better illustrative comparison but I’m too tired – I mean that it was badly written and banal, rather than it was written in purple crayon), which was tedious.
I am tired because I was staying in a hotel last night. I never sleep well the first night in a hotel. This is unfortunate because, most often, I only stay in hotels for one night.
Now I was quite sensible last night. I was already tired I didn’t drink too much – just a couple of beers with a dour Scottish colleague over a plate of Tex Mex, as you do. And I was back to my room by nine fifteen. All had boded well on my return – both my neighbours had Do Not Disturb signs hanging on their doors which either indicates they are intending having a sound slumber or a night of hard sex. Fortunately, there were no sounds of the latter as I hesitated outside of their doors This is just part of my routine when staying in a hotel along with checking my room for hidden cameras, ensuring that the vodka bottles in the mini bar haven’t been tampered with and filled with water, and checking for Taliban suicide bombers in the corridor ( now THAT’S a long story, but, one for another day perhaps)
Anyhow, after calling C and ironing my shirt I was in my bed with the Ten O’clock News and away with the fairies shortly thereafter.
But, not for long. There was a baby in the room next door. A young baby (is there any other kind?). A noisy baby who awoke every two hours and screamed sufficiently loudly to rouse me from my slumber in spite of my gammy ear. Admittedly the baby did not scream for long. Maybe just ten minutes at a time. But an hour and fifty minutes later it would be at it again.
On one occasion I am sure my neighbour threw something heavy against my wall. I am relatively sure that it wasn’t the baby as the screaming cycle was not interrupted. I am not sure whether the item was thrown out of frustration due to the parent’s own deprivation, or, to shut me up. I have a very annoying habit of crying out when I am dreaming when falling into deep sleep. And, as I was tired and waking up a lot I was also falling into sleep a lot, and, probably due to the Tex Mex, dreaming a lot.
From 4am the London streets were full with traffic and sirens (the noisy horns, not the mythical Greek desperate housewives) until, at 06.20 precisely, there was a sound like a freight train full of milk bottes going past. And so I have finally given up the ghost and am awake.
At least I have a little while before the alarm to pour coffee into me, put drops in my eyes to try and disguise the bags under them, and to moisturise in order to reduce the redness of my face – my rosacea is always worse after a sleep deprived night.
I am not a pretty sight. I hope I don’t put the dour Scot off his porridge over breakfast.
- Scientists Probe Sleep Deprivation, Depression Links (abcnews.go.com)