In search of oblivion….
Oh for oblivion. I was banking on an early night tonight, following an early trip down to London this morning and a busy day in the office.
Indeed, I was all tucked up in my hotel bed in time for the Ten O’clock News, and asleep very shortly thereafter. But, the sleep of the innocents has since eluded me. It is 02.43 am. Not quite the witching hour but I am wide awake. It is like the worse case of jet lag, without the time travel.
I wonder if time travel is indeed to blame?! Earlier I caught up with Doctor Who, series 8, episode 4: Listen. It was about the dreams we all share about monsters who hide under our beds. It turns out that the “monster” was Clara, the Doctor’s easy-on-the-eye time-traveling companion. Now, for sure, the thought of having Jenna Coleman hiding under the bed would be enough to keep most men of a certain age up at night…..
But, I was never one to watch Doctor Who from behind the safety and security of the sofa, so it must have been more than that behind my insomnia.
My other viewing pleasures last night included Sheridan Smith in Who Do You Think You Are. But apart from a rather dull story about a gritty Northern great, great grandad who was a banjo-playing alcoholic who may or may not have burned his pub down as an insurance scam, and some pretty awful country and western singing in a Sheffield working man’s club, there was little in that to play on my mind.
Nor is the prospect of Scottish independence keeping me awake, even with the sight of a smarmy David Cameron trying to look sincere, while sticking to his non-policy of too little, too late and promises of jam tomorrow.
No, I suspect that my present alertness has much more to do with work, the imminent round of budget discussions, C’s important job interview tomorrow, mixed with the remnants of the hotel’s burger with extra cheese and bacon (but not as we know it), fries, and a certain dill pickle poking at the edge of my consciousness.
I am bolt awake. I am also dehydrated – a consequence of spending most of my day in an air-conditioned atmosphere, and the lack of free water. I awoke to find my teeth are sticking to my gums while my tongue feels too big for my mouth.
And so I have been forced to face the dilemma of the air conditioning. I prefer my room cool, and appreciate the white noise in the background to help me sleep. But I have been forced to switch it off to halt my decline into complete desiccation.
I can feel my eyeballs reddening, my wrinkles deepening, and the bags under my eyes growing to the size of a super-model’s luggage; and, a curvaceous, large-sized super model at that.
I need to sleep. It is going to be a long day in the office otherwise.