Early again

Each morning this week, I have had to drag myself out of bed at 6 to sort the kids out ahead of the school run. Parenting, ne?

Today, when I had the (much needed) opportunity to stay in bed a little longer, my brain decided that 5:40 would be the best time to boot up and begin actively thinking. Which is something it needs to do each morning,sure.

But twenty to six?

It’s only lunchtime and I’m already looking forward to bedtime this evening.

Computing

Recently, I have found myself awake a lot at night. I have been known to go through patches of insomnia now and again in the past, but this has been going on for almost two weeks now. It follows on from my trip up north, during which sleep was necessarily at a premium, and after which I banged out only the second 12 hour slumber since I moved to SA. That was great, but it was the last decent night’s sleep I can remember.

So what’s the issue here?

My best guess is computer exposure. I have been sitting in front of a screen for several (or more) hours each day, and I think that my system (as in my body system, not my computer system) has forgotten how to manage that. It’s just not used to it anymore and one of the effects is not being able to sleep, even when I’ve switched off the laptop by 8pm.

And then once I’m not asleep, my mind really kicks in with all of the thoughts necessary to keep me awake for quite literally hours on end. Important stuff, trivial stuff that it thinks now should be considered important, a full analysis of why I’m not sleeping and just how much sleep I’m not getting, wondering if I should set up a phone farm, and myriad concerns over who I should pick for my fantasy league side for the upcoming season.

I haven’t been paying much attention for the last couple of months.

I’m due a catch up night, and I have high hopes that it might happen tomorrow. The situation is currently manageable, albeit with slightly slower reactions and a slightly shorter fuse than normal (but I have a pretty long one anyway) (careful now), but will soon become untenable if things continue this way. Thankfully, if all else fails, draft night is on Tuesday so I won’t be able to worry about my picks for much longer anyway.

But then suddenly, it’ll be the real thing on my mind. Oh goodness.

Stick in a five and go

I got punched last night. Quite hard. On the bit of my chest where it kind of joins my shoulder: bang in the pectoral. Right hand side.
It was quite a firm punch. Not massively hard, but certainly not a tickle either.

It was definitely enough to wake me up.

My time was 04:59 and the culprit was my wife. Having thumped me, she went back to sleep and I was left wondering why on earth I had been the victim of this wholly unprovoked assault. And let’s be absolutely clear here: an assault is exactly what this was, not some restless flailing arm. This was a decent right hook, clenched fist, delivered with reasonable force.

When I tackled her (not literally) about the incident this morning, she denied all knowledge of it. Which is exactly what she would do, of course. If there was ever an easy way to absolve oneself from allegations of spousal abuse, you wait until the wee small hours of the morning, stick in a five an go.

No witnesses, no protracted argument: claim total innocence.
And how can I even argue?

But hey: if I suddenly succumb to an overnight death by punching, you’ll know where to go looking, right?

No sleep til bedtime

And then maybe not even then.

The beagle kept me awake for quite a lot of the night last night. Generally, the beagle is a very good sleeper. This probably comes from practising all day, every day – either in its basket or on the couch in the study. The commitment to attain new levels of extreme laziness is to be admired, but then, that’s basically what beagles are made for.

Last night was an exception though.

I’m not 100% sure what the problem was, but a gentle scratching in the kitchen quickly turned to crashing as several (or more) kilos of prime beagle meat repeatedly flung itself at the door in an effort to get me to come downstairs and let it out into the garden to ‘look around for stuff’ and have a pee.

It’s cold when you need to drag the beagle back in from the garden in the early hours of the morning. Colder still when you were cosy in bed before it started complaining.
But, finally it was relocated into its basket in the kitchen, and I was restored to my original position just beneath the duvet.

And then, 20 minutes later, it did it again. A quick glance at Mrs 6000 was all it took to make me realise that I was completely on my own in carefully defenestrating the dog again.

And so I did, and again, after 5 or more minutes of wandering around the garden and sniffing things, I managed to get it back into its basket.

And then, 30 minutes later… Look, you get the picture.

And once it’s happened a few times, you find yourself lying awake in bed, just waiting for the next whine, bark or splintering of the kitchen door. Even when (thankfully) none is forthcoming.

Thus, I am knackered. Look, I don’t really do sleep deprivation very well, but the good news is that from initial investigations, it seems that I can just about function on the couple of hours I got. That’s probably just while things are going well though. If you cross me today, I. Will. Cut. You. 

Oh, and a note on the beagle, because it obviously had an equally disturbed night. Well, while I dragged myself out of the house into the rain and off to the laboratory this morning, it was back to rehearsing its slumbers on the couch.

*forced smile*

Sometimes

Sometimes, your phone battery is down to 19% (because of a million football whatsapps) and you’re ready for bed, even though it’s only half past eight (because there was a kid’s “sleep”over here last night).

And then you remember that you have blogging commitments. Better sort that out before one or other energy source expires then.

’tis done. And so am I.