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Feck, feck, feck! That’s one less feck than how many days I went without getting any real sleep. I think that was the wosrt one ever. First night was just normal, ho hum. Second night, that was pretty grim. Spent the night getting up, having a cup of tea, back to bed, get up again. Couldn’t settle down. I was up at about 6 and went out for a ride, that was a bit weird but I got back completely shagged, mentaly and physically. This was going to be the best sleep ever. It was still 2 in the afternoon but I didn’t care, if I could just get one hour in before my son came home from school, it’d be sweet. But no, just lie there. Get up, carry on as normal. The world is pink around the edges now, and jerks a lot.

Gets to ten that evening and I’m showing no signs of dozing off so I make a decision normally poo-pooed by those who ‘know’ what they’re talking about say is a bad one, I decided to get some beer down my neck. Oooh, that feels good. I follow it with some more beer, and some more.  Repeat till about 1 in the morning. I go to sleep too, till about 3. Bugger.

Friday is a strange day indeed. I’m in workand I’m doing stuff but it’s all auto-pilot, nothing makes sense, the world is wibbling quite a bit, like the start of a migraine….but different. I drive into Manchester, some things stand out like they’ve been painted bright, other things are dull. Some things move fast like a bullet, other things stand still. And EVERYTHING IS LOUD! It’s a long day too, I don’t get home till about 7:30. Go straight to bed, sleep for a whole 20 minutes.

Today is the day my brother in law is coming to stay with us with his constant hacking cough, that’ll make sleep easy. Also, the stupid little shit next door decided to fire up Guitar Loser at 2 in the fucking morning and then sing loudly to it like one of those mentally retarded people who go on Pop Idol and actually think they’re good. I get up and check outside, there are two works vans there, he has one of his mates round so any confrontation will no doubt turn into a drunken brawl. Back to bed, lie awake.

Saturday was a day of hard, hard graft. I make 4 trips to the tip with all the crap from our garden and shed, move a load of sand and cement and paving slabs from the from of the house to the side where they are apparently less messy, drive over to Bolton to get some bike bits, clean up the house including two loads of dish washing, strip down my Lemond including hacksawing the stem off to save me having to de-tape the bars (stems are harder than I thought), go shopping, make tea for us all, wash up again, run round like a blue arsed fly for two people who are perfectly capable of getting up and doing stuff for themselves (dunno, must be genetic) and finally get to sit down with a beer about 9. Look round the living room, my wife and her brother have both fallen asleep on the couches. No chacne of watching TV or playing on the XBOX then.

Upstairs to the computer, leaf through the pile of DVD’s I’ve got that I haven’t watched yet, find Dogma, watch most of it, cry when it starts to go fuzzy about twenty minutes from the end, clean it, still screwed. Go to bed, I actually feel like I’m going to get a good nights sleep tonight I think as I start to doze off…..

COUGH COUGH COUGH

/Muffled “It’s the final countdown da na na na!”

I know where my crowbar is, I’ve been using it today, I could resolve this issue right now with two carefully aimed blows and sleep like a baby. And the worrying thing is, I spend some real time contemplating this.

I did finally sleep, a whole 4 hours I think, that’s much better.