Tuesday, September 22, 2009


It's 1am, and I've tried, and failed, yet again, to go to bed.

Since 10pm or so I've just been noodling about, tidying the kitchen, writing an email or two, rereading some old blog posts (hey, wow, I used to be funny!) and sniggering my way through several pages of upcoming LOLcats. Eventually I went around and turned off all the lights, brushed my teeth, then headed for my bedroom, but only got as far as the doorway before I thought, "I really should floss." So back I went to the bathroom, and I flossed. I returned to the bedroom, faced the bed, and thought, "You know, I think I missed a bit." So back to the bathroom and more flossing. I was about to leave the bathroom again before I thought, "Mouthwash!" So I swigged, gargled and spat. Then I tidied up the bathroom, stacking the toilet paper rolls neatly and putting away my shaver and other odds and ends.

Then I thought, "Should I have a glance at the new book that arrived from The Book Depository?"

"No, bed!" announced whichever hemisphere of my brain is the sensible one.

Then I thought, "Maybe I should hang out the washing that's still in the machine?"

"No, bed!" said the sensible hemisphere.

Then I thought, "Maybe I could write a blog post about my hilarious inability to go to bed?"

"GAAAH! Fine, whatever, I give up," said my good sense. "Pfaff about. It not like you have to get up and go to work in a few hours. Idiot."

So here I am writing about nothing, struggling to keep my eyes in focus and feeling as if my head is encased in cement. And now it's 1.13am.


Blogger TimT said...

Did you ever get to bed in the end, or do you now live a zombie-like existence, stumbling your way through the days and nights in a semi-conscious haze in a never-ending quest for food, food, FOOD (preferably the brains of the postman) until you are hunted down and killed by a group of local villagers armed with nowt but a pitchfork and a rusty old blunderbuss?

8:46 AM  

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