I had the worst night’s sleep in a long time last night. I had a shower just before I went to bed which seemed to rejuvenate my whole body. Yesterday was a plain old Sunday so I didn’t actually go out of the house at all yet I had been consuming quite an amount of caffeine and glucose during the day. Add to the fact that I slept in for an hour or two in the morning, and I think I developed the perfect recipe for a long night of fidgeting and frustration.
So it was past midnight, and I was still trying to coax myself into a lame dream.. going through every experience I could think of in a vain attempt to latch onto a metaphysical world to which I could peak into and then escape. It became 1.45am and I couldn’t believe I was still wide, wide awake, raring to go out for a bike ride into town as fast as I could. My legs would just not keep still! So I jumped out of bed and violently shook my arms along with systematically lifting each leg up in turn. To be honest, I think that made it a whole lot worse.
Time for some music. Jack Johnson was in the CD player so I switched him on. I managed to listen to the whole album consciously. On came the fan, speed 2. Then an old secret of mine… wet my eyes to make them heavy (it never fails). But that all failed. I don’t even know how I eventually drifted off, I must’ve given up trying to sleep and it just happened. How ironic. All I know was that I spent 4 hours in and out of bed in sheer desperation to delve deep into a coma.
