Look at the time I posted my last post! Middle of the morning on a Friday. Why was that? I suffer from insomnia. To get things into perspective here I do not have the internet at home so I clearly drove in to work and whacked out a blog entry at 7 in the morning! If you'd already sussed this with the power of your mind give yourself a pat on the head, you were right.
I've had insomnia for years and years. When I was a kid I'd wake up thinking it was morning when in fact it wasn't. Or more accurately it was, just more the sort of 4am morning that most of us never see. One of my earliest memories is of one morning when I woke up, went downstairs and out into the back garden when I picked a stawberry and took it back up into my room. The backdoor wasn't locked (those were the days of no crime), I was about 5 years old and it was, even then, a surreal thing to do.
Insomnia would be great if it meant you were able to be superhuman and just not sleep at all. Like a crazed cocaine addict (without the hallucinations) you could while away the days and nights without having to stop for no one! In truth insomnia means you spend most of the time feeling really tired and falling asleep at the wrong moment.
There's been many occasions where I've snoozed inappropriately. A big celebrity awards ceremony is one. Sat with 'important' radio types I slumbered like a baby after the meal. It was remarked upon at the highest level, apparently, I was asleep so didn't notice.
Then there was once in a meeting, one of those 'inspirational' workshops. I'm watching, nodding, drifting, as Billy Bigtime spouts rubbish about breaking blocks of wood and our inner potential. Then I'm watching as criminals run from me, I'm Batman! Chasing the baddies in my thin lycra suit. Swinging from the rooftops. I groan, really loudly. For no reason. Big loud, sleeping noise. "Roar!" - the whole room looks round. There I am. Nothing more to add.
When I woke up on Saturday morning my long suffering girlfriend just nodded as I told her I was going to do some shopping (5am) and then go update my blog. I love her, so I bought her scotch pancakes before curling up with her again at the more sensible bedtime of 9am.
Scratch free situation with the athlete's foot. It looks bumpy and a bit odd but essentially okay. Perhaps it's left a legacy of scar tissue? Time will tell. At my girlfriend's insistence I apply more steroid creme and feel sad that my old friend looks so clearly beaten. Perhaps at this rate I won't even need the Doctors!