I am pleased to announce, I had a full, good old fashioned, eight hours sleep last night. I am announcing this with triumph because I have experienced a few problems recently, while trying to fall asleep.
Can you think of anything as frustrating as retiring to your bed, feeling peaky, snuggling under the duvet, and then suddenly feeling wide awake? Moving from one side of the bed to the other, practising deep breathing and trying to blank out any unnecessary thoughts that are entering your head. And then you make the fatal mistake of checking the time and you realise how long you have been lying there, unable to sleep, wasting precious sleeping time, and knowing how irritable and tired you will feel the next morning.
I’m sure you will agree that when it comes to the frustration list, insomnia is right at the top.
Yesterday, fearing another sleepless night, I decided to jot down any worries that I thought were interfering with my sleeping pattern. The list went something like this: finances, achievements, printers contract, body fat, the aging process.
Hmm. Not a very long list really, and hardly nail bitingly scary stuff. And then I felt guilty. There are people in this world waiting for life threatening test results or about to have their home repossessed. Now they are problems guaranteed to occupy your mind and prevent you from sleeping. Maybe there is a small compensation that my worries are at least solvable.
So, I have banned myself from reading bank statements and weighing myself before bed time. I have emailed one of my photographs to a newspaper and flicked through the latest Freelance Market News for fiction story ideas (this comes underneath the ‘achievements’ woe). I have invested in face cream and struck a deal with myself to visit the gym on a regular basis. I have also discussed the printers contract with the extremely tall publisher. The ball is in his court now.
I’m afraid I don’t have the answers for world peace or Saturdays winning lottery numbers, but I did have a lovely nights sleep last night.
Of course the glasses of wine I drank might have contributed towards my new ability to drift into slumber land. My friend Eve invited myself and two other friends for dinner last night. It was a very pleasant evening.
Although I wasn’t quite sure what I had walked into at first, my friend Claire’s face was as long as a kite.
“What’s up?” I said to her, feeling very concerned.
“We’ve been looking at old photos of us. We were so young and thin,” Claire replied.
I took a photograph from her hand, to see the cause of her sad face. I actually stared blankly at one of the smiling faces on the photograph, and then I realised the smiling face was me! Now it was my turn to feel depressed. My skin was youthful and healthy. No blemishes, no wrinkles, no worry/frown lines! And just look at how thin I was!
Eve did not help. “Look how young, thin and pretty your face was,” she said.
I tortured myself further, I dug into my friend Eve’s box and took out pictures of us from a summer holiday, many, many summers ago. We managed to take a roll of film in one drunken night, and then when the film finished, we thought we hadn’t put the roll in correctly, so we put it back in and started again. The result was double exposure pictures. Heads that do not match bodies, and faces overlapping other faces. They are very weird. We were horrified when we first saw the pictures, but we soon found the funny side. It certainly was a night, with photographic evidence, to remember. That was also the night we accidentally went back to our hotel in a police car. Don’t ask.
"Look at my waist!" I screamed at one of the pictures.
That was the moment we decided to put the pictures back into the box, sit down, eat the hors d'oevres and crack open a bottle of wine.
Picture of the day: