Tuesday 23 November 2010

Hair Of The Dog (Sleep Version)

Too much of something, I have learnt, makes you feel rubbish. Some of them are obvious. Too much alcohol, as I have found out a fair few times including this weekend, makes you sick. Too much Dairy Milk makes you feel fat and sick and too much Tropicana brings out the worst of you. Namely your bowels.

But, some things aren't so obvious. For example, too much sleep. If you stay up for most hours of the weekend, come home and crash out for 19 hours, which I used to do a lot of in the Summer for cricket, isn't good. I went to sleep at roughly midnight on Sunday night and woke up at 7.30pm on Monday. That's 19.5 hours of pure sleep.

Laziness? Yes.

I was destined for another night of trying to find things to do whilst I watch as my fellow companions drifted off to sleep at different times of the night. I started off with a Dominos in my desperate attempt to get fat, followed by a bit of Football Manager which saw my incredible 67 game unbeaten run as Real Madrid manager come to an end. Yes, I am that sad.

Since then? Read 1/20th of a book... watched 35 minutes of Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince which I found on DVD in a plastic bag under my bed and literally stared at the ceiling for 45 minutes, all because I am too tired to do anything productive. Too tired after 19 and a half hours sleep? How is that possible? As I lie here, typing this, it is 4 minutes to 5am and I am fighting hard to stay awake, despite it being the middle of my afternoon.

Part of me is looking forward to going back to work of me on Wednesday. 9 days off is more than enough these days.. I'm not certain how I coped with the boredom of having 6 weeks off in the Summer with no money and nothing to do. Work gives me something to do and despite being at the worst time of day, with the worst people on Planet Earth and in the worst place in The Milky Way, it does the most important things of all.

Gives me money, and makes me respectable.

Sleeping for 19 and a half hours, playing Football Manager whilst eating large bars of Dairy Milk does not make me feel these things. Instead it makes me feel like a fat, unemployed hobo with nothing better to do.

Come Thursday, I'll be wanting another holiday, so maybe I should just enjoy it while I can? Back to sleep I go then!

Ciao x

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