Sleep, What I Used To Do Best

I used to be a good sleeper, it used to be the thing I did best, I used to say as my line at dinner parties when everyone else made their case for a bottle of wine, or a bag of pot, before they could achieve nod. If I wasn't asleep after 5 minutes of laying my head on the pillow, I would start to hear alarm bells, albeit silent ones in my head.

And while I still don't really have a lot to complain about, insomniacs, I'm guessing, would only wish to have my problems, I'm not as good as I used to be. Oh, I’m still asleep within 5 minutes of going to bed, but now I wake up early, often

It is the weight of life that is disrupting my sleep patterns, I’m sure.

Here I am up at 4am, sitting on the floor in front of the open fire I have just lit, which is just beginning to warm my right arm, like a sunrise. Much to the delight of Milo my cat. (no pesky bulldogs to deal with. Well, just the young bulldog being the problem to be precise) You're up! You're up! I can almost hear Milo say. Pat me. Pat me. Pat me.

I got up at 3am for a piss. Sam did too. The silent shuffle to the bathroom, and the silent shuffle back to bed. (Ralph and Fred the sheep dogs, except without the greeting)

Then I lay in bed writing stuff in my head, which was nice. But then I wanted to write it down before I forget? Stop it! Now, about the things I have to do in the morning. Shut up brain. Call the heating man first up. Shut up. Think nice thoughts? I wonder how big Liam’s dick really is? He is a big lad, it only stands to reason?... no, don’t think about that. Think poetry. What was that poem I was writing… Oh, no, back to wanting to write it down! What rhymes with, what was that word?... Shut up! And that is a great name for that piece that I wrote. Get up, write it down. Shut up! Shut up! Should I look at the time again? Oh, go to sleep. Toss and Turn. Grrr. It is no use. I'm awake now. damn it. Grrr. I toss and turn for a moment later.

And it is my day off today, tomorrow, (I never quite think it is the next day until the sun comes up), whatever, so what does it matter really, what time I get up?

I reach out and pull my watch from its charging station. I put it on my writs nimbly without needing to see.

I could light the fire (even if it isn't as cold as the last few days) and lie in front of it with the big pillow pulling a blanket over me and listen to some music.

I slip out from under the doona in the dark. I pull on my track pants, I feel around on the floorboards for my fluffy explorer socks. I find one and slide it over my left foot. I eventually find the other and slide it over my right foot. I get to my feet and slide my feet with small steps over to the bedroom chair where I discarded my t-shirt, thermal top and hoodie last night, I slide them all on in one movement. My eyes are becoming more accustom to the dark and I step towards the desk and my laptop and head phones, I was using in bed last night before we turned out the lights. I take small steps in the dark, like the bound feet of an ancient Japanese woman, to the door. I reach out to my bedside table and pull my phone from its charging station. I grab my glasses. I click the door open quietly, I slip through and close the door behind me again as quietly as I can.

The house is in darkness. I check carefully to make sure Milo isn’t lying on the step on the turn in the staircase as he likes to do. I don’t know how many times I have been in danger of plummeting down the stairs having to avoid Milo at the very last minute. Cats?

Am I hungry? Don't even think about it.

I go and dig peanut butter out of the jar with a knife. 

I make coffee.