Every time I mention that to various friends, I can see them raising their eyebrows or, if we’re not actually in each other’s presence, I can imagine it. Do I have some sort of reputation, I wonder? Alas, the lack of sleep has nothing to do with carnal pleasures and all to do with strange sleeping patterns.
I was tired – only three hours of sleep the night before - and got back late so I didn’t go to the theatre as originally planned. The bed leered seductively at me as I entered the flat at about 7.30. I plonked myself down on it and picked up a book. By 8 I’d almost fallen asleep but I nipped that nap in the bud to ensure that I’d be properly exhausted for a decent sleep later on. There isn’t much to keep me busy in the flat so I made a feeble attempt at cleaning up surfaces and things then ironed two shirts. It seemed like a good idea to eat something so I heated up the left-over pasta from the night before and ate it. Now what to do? I tried to see if I could connect to my neighbour’s ‘badass3’ wifi network and found that I could. Hurrah! Decided to postpone any surfing or chatting until later and went out for a pint at the Lord Robert’s. I didn’t stay long even though I bumped into P whose farewell I’d attended on Friday night, an event that gave me such a dreadful champagne hangover the next day. Awful enough to not go and see ‘Flightplan’ with Michelle on Saturday afternoon!
I jumped straight into bed once I got home and tried to connect to ‘badass3’ again. Damn, it had disappeared again! Ok, I think they may have cottoned on to my bandwidth banditry. Or, maybe, they’re just being more environmentally conscious and switching off their computer? Back to dial-up. So slow! But did it stop me from being on there for too long? Oh no. It was way after 2 by the time the light went off.
The alarm on my mobile rang at 6.15. God, I felt rough! But, things to do, places (work) to go and I was out of bed 5 minute’s later. Coffee. Fag. Get out clean underwear and socks. Strip bed. Make bed. Shower. Get dressed.
Oops, almost running late, only 5 minutes before my lift arrives!
Shove bed clothing and dirty clothes into washing machine, add soap powder and switch on. Gather my briefcase things together. Keys. Mobile phone? Mmmm…can’t find it. No time to hunt so I ring it from my landline – it immediately goes to voicemail.
Two weeks ago, when still at the Fish Inn, I’d spent half an hour hunting for my phone, looking into every conceivable place, including the rubbish bin and under the bed (three times!) and not been able to find it. Later that day, I rang the landlord to ask him to go to my room with his mobile to find it by ringing it. He found it under the bed. I had looked under there three times! I’d pulled it all the way to the other side of the room! I don't understand why these things sometimes happen to me.
Today, I didn’t have the luxury of spending so much time hunting for it and despite the tiredness, my mind quickly suggested three places. On or near the bed? Nope. In the bathroom? Nada. Near the sink or washing machine? Nothing. Um, wait a minute, what’s that funny-looking thing in the washing machine?
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Yes, it’s well and truly fucked! But I still have the sim card so will have all my numbers when I get to replace the handset.