I wouldn't say I'm debilitated by lack of sleep but I struggle with the journey getting there. I think it's maybe more common amongst women than men. In my unquantifiable experience of other sleepers, men tend to save their sleepless spells for the crack of dawn, as it were. No wonder they aint sleeping.
My problem is too much thinking, not enough switching off. If I could just smother myself (halfway) to induce unconsciousness (i.e get the timing just right) that would be good. Russell Brand, in his Autobiog Booky Wook, used a similar knock-out method but that involved half pounding himself to death with something else. Perhaps extremes are not the answer. But nor is the Good Sleep Guide from my doctor.
I recently read an article that quoted an old saying: "an hour in bed before midnight is worth two hours after" as being true. I'm buggered on that score. The article also mentioned a study of females monitored by the University of California that found: "those who slept between 6.5 and 7.5 hrs per night had longer lifespans." Hmm, buggered on that score too. I didn't mention the fact that because I struggle getting to sleep I tend to sleep longer (in the morning). In my case the shitty aspect thereby being not a lack of sleep, per se, but the bore of waiting for it. And now knowing that I'll probably die from too much sleep. Oh well.
My brother said something to me about his sleepless 'turning' which brought to mind my own; and the bizarre and ritualistic nature of said sleepless 'turning.' I tend to start off lying comfortably on my back. At this point feeling drowsily optimistic about the prospect of sleep (delusional.) I then turn onto my left side, away from Boyfriend, then onto my stomach. Then onto my right (favourite side but closer to Boyfriend's snoring) so I'm quickly back where I started. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Like a crocodile I seem to roll my Insomnia around and around, in a coiled deathtrap, splattering inane thoughts against the bedroom walls. I do have my best writing ideas at these times but that's beside by point.
Beer Count: about 25-30 halves, over four separate WHOLLY UNAVOIDABLE occasions. (Beer festivals, birthdays, Ladies Day, no less...) I was doing FINE until the end of May. But the significant thing is that I've only been drinking halves. Except for a couple of enforced pints of Guinness.
Word of the Blog: Lissom = Lithe, agile. Which isn't me yet.
News: I have RSI in my right arm so am tippy typing crappily with my left. Going to the Lowdham Book Festival this year, which begins/began already (depending on when I finish this bloody post.) Been cycling to work on sunny days (not much then.) Nearing the end of the first rewrite of my novel, feeling more positive. Going to Cornwall in a few weeks. I think I might go mad and post a picture too; need to find something nice. Camping for my birthday was good, maybe I'll stick that up.Tis Wetton, near Ashbourne, Derbyshire; a really pretty place.
Chow 4 Now. :0)
