"Oh. God. No...... Already?"

No one likes the Unwelcome Visitor.

You know the ones, they just turn up, they don't call ahead.  They just descend.

And, there are some visitors, even if you know they are coming, that fill you with dread.  Their imminent arrival makes you sigh. Alot.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
(and who has been 'dropping in' way too much lately?)

My old not-so-friend, Insomnia.

Nope, no one says 'oh yay, I've got Insomnia coming over tonight'

But, sometimes, I feel sorry for Insomnia.

Little bit.

Insomnia has no friends. except Bad Irrational Thoughts.
Ever notice how BITs always seem to tag along with Insomnia?
The Hanger-On.  The 'Do You Mind If My Friend Comes Too' one.

Chirpy Productive Positive Vibes & Can Do Thoughts seem to eschew the hours of darkness. They are getting their rest at night too.

It is what keeps them fresh-faced and wrinkle-free.
BITs, Insomnia, and me have panda eyes, wrinkles of weariness & grumpiness in common.

Social Media, assuming you have friends in different time-zones (let us consider it an Expat Perk), will at least can help you feel less isolated and psychotic as they will be there, on FaceBook, Twitter or Whatsapp.

It is good to know they are there, when it feels like the whole freaking world has drifted off to a restful, healing, energising world of sleep and rest.

Except you.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

HIM.
The dog(s).
Even that bloody cat.

All snoozing. Deeeeeep relaxed breathing. Resting. Re-charging. (I kinda hate them a bit, right now)

And whilst I am on the subject, what, exactly, are those bloody animals re-charging for?
More daytime snoozes?
Yeah, steady on.

Maybe that once a day*, burst of energy?
Tragic.
A walk filled with happy shouts at birds & half-hearted attempts at rabbit chasing.
70 kg lummox vs 2 kg fleet-of-foot, thing built for speed. It ain't a fair contest.
The Lummox knows it.  The Fast-Thing with Big Ears knows it.

* NOTE: 'Once a day' because neither of them can be arsed to haul themselves out of their/my bed 

Poor things. What a day.

It has been months since I have had an unbroken night's sleep.  Maybe people don't anymore.  I know I am not unique.

HE seems to, mind.
I should know.
Feel like I have carried out enough random spot checks.

ANSWER: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

If it isn't Him snoring, it is the mosquitoes.

If it isn't one dog finding the most awkward (for me) place (for him) to sleep, it is the other one snoring.

If it isn't waking from the most horrific of dreams, nerves a'jangling, it is the BITs creeping into my brain, with their strobe-lights and crack-strength caffeine to make sure I stay with them.

"Bitch, you ain't goin' nowhere."

Am I angry?
Yeah! I'm fffffffing angry!

I want to sleep.
I want to wake up feeling better than when I went to bed.
I'd like to bounce out of bed, and say "Hiya, New Day, whaddaya got me?!"

Instead of:
"Oh God.
No.
Already?"

For more angry, sleep-deprived ravings see Letter To Insomnia

A letter to Insomnia

Dear Insomnia,

Think you're funny, do you?

An hour & a half ago, my head was lolling & my eyes slow blinking - not sexy slow blinks, more the going, going ............ gone ones.

Enough.

I'm calling time on the day.  My bed sings to me.  It is the Siren.  I am a Sailor. There are no rocks. (or are there?).

Shuffle round the house, shutting it down for the night.
Easy does it.
Noooooo sudden movements.
No jarring, rejuvenating thoughts.
Nice slooooooow theta brain waves only, please.

Get into bed.  Hi, Bed.  *snuggles down*
Hey, duvet. Helloooooo, pillows.
OK, team, we are in for a great night.

*Lights out*


*********************************************************************************
Then ..............

I wonder if I need to tell The Kid where babies come from?
Should I have a mole map?

It continues .....

If I die, where should my ashes be scattered?
That arm I am lying on feels weird, where should I put it? Under the pillow? Do I lie on it? What DO I do with that arm?
My eyeballs feel weird too. What do my eyeballs do when I close my eyes.
Am I hungry?


And continues ......

What was that noise?
Maybe I should read?
Or listen to a podcast.
The bloody dog is taking up too much space.
If I go to sleep right now, I can still get 5 & half hours of sleep.
How will I tell the Kid where babies come from?
Is The Trousers still breathing?

You get the idea.

The thoughts, they start bouncing around in the dark.

And what is the quantum end result of my bonkers nocturnal nuttinesses bouncing off each other?  Sleep Acquisition in deficit, that's what.*

*SUBTITLES: no sleeping for Roo

I recently read Caitlin Moran referring to the Screaming Monkeys in her head.  "six million chattering monkeys of evil, screeching out each worry ever invented."

At night it seems my thoughts start jostling, squealing, scrummaging, like new born puppies, *wheeeeek, wheeeeeeeeeek* feet in ears, clawing blindly over each other to get to the front, some even heading off on a complete tangent & ending up sucking on the end of Mum's tail.

Screaming Monkeys are cooler. And scarier. I just get chaotic, noisy, wiggling pre-cute puppies.  I don't have cool insomnia.

By the way, sorry for bringing up the arm thing, I hope it doesn't keep you awake tonight.

If it does though, drop me a line. I'll take any suggestions as to what the hell to do with it