Alternative title: My Insomnia appears to have reached a level in which even the lamp on my bedside table is telling me to “go the fudge to sleep so help me god!” …you can’t really argue with a lamp when it’s in that sort of mood can you?


Right now I am tired, actually tired is rather an understatement, right now I am so tired that I’m slowly learning the art of “spatial contextual navigation by bouncing off the nearest object” be it door frame, table or elderly person. I have smashed my shins off so many things recently that even the bruises have bruises and I have absolutely no idea why all those shadows have picked my room in which to have a tea party but they have and those gits are noisy and rude! They won’t even share their cakes with me…I don’t even like Walnut cake but it’s the principle of the matter…They could at least pour me a cup of tea.

Insomnia is a strange beast, we’ve met many a time before…usually it’s helpful in a “cramming for an exam” or “oh holy hell I need to finish this 10,000 word thesis tonight” kind of way. Other times, like now, it’s just a royal pain in the rusty sheriff’s badge.

It’s one thing having broken sleep, it’s entirely another to wake up at 2am after a particularly vivid dream (which I’m not going to discuss here because of reasons – see, now you think it’s rude!), lie awake until 3am wondering what the heck is making the ceiling sparkle (remind self to buy a stake in case of sparkly vampires…pervy sods watching people sleep), decide that lying there won’t solve anything so get up and make a green tea.

Green Tea

Not going to lie…I would rather have a Yorkshire Tea…yes that goes against my Lancashire-ness, no I don’t care because – confession time and blasphemy warning – Lancashire Tea just doesn’t do it for me the way Yorkshire Tea does (Source)

Now between 3:30am and 7am can go a few ways:

1. It can be calm. You plonk yourself on the sofa, all cuddled up in a duvet, drink your tea and watch some beauty based drivel about how plastic surgery would allow you to rule the hearts of millions of men the world over if only you had a vagina placed on your forehead.

2. It can be relatively productive. You clean the fridge, throw out the crusty lettuce leaves and foul smelling yogurts that are slowly becoming sentient, hoover the kitchen work surfaces and bleach the TV.

3. It can be a blur of mayhem. Your brain kicks in at around 7ish with the knowledge that all was not well at all…there is a cock shaped Manchester Tart baking in the oven (the ingredients still a mystery except for the sock flavoured custard), the microwave has been on fire and is currently being hidden under what appears to be a pair of giant panties (origins of which are still unknown), the bath is filled with chicken soup and pineapples (who wants to bid £1 million for that piece of art?!) and you happen to be sat on the roof wondering where all the dots went from the sky.

It’s all a bit of a lottery as to how each night will go. Suppose it all depends on how wired your brain feels. Also, note to all those experiencing disturbed sleep, job hunting during those hours is an incredibly bad idea!

One can only imagine the utter tripe I’ve been putting on job applications:

Why would you like this job?


How did you hear about this role?


What skills do you have that would be applicable?

Witchcraft….and cheese making.

Is there anything else you feel we must know?

Never wipe your backside with a broken glass bottle.


In fairness I stand by that last piece of advice…but still, a sleep deprived brain is a train wreck. You will realise this the day you try to put both feet into the same sleeve of a jumper.

Hope the rest of you are sleeping well…cretins.


R x