Monday, 22 November 2010

You snooze, you lose

If you're reading this today it means that I'm not dead. I haven't plunged sleepily off the side of the motorway on the way home, neither have I dozed my way under the merciless wheels of a Latvian 18-wheeler.*

Which is nice. Because I have plans for this evening, and none of them involve any form of plunging or, for that matter, getting acquainted with the mucky bits of passing heavy goods vehicles. Merciless or otherwise.

However, it was touch and go earlier today. It was one of those days spent struggling through a fog. I was tired, I was fatigued, I was, not to put too fine a point on it, knackered. I have not been fully functional today.

It's not good when you get out of bed more sleepy than you were when on the way in, but that was me this morning.After an eventful night spent asking myself some of the more deep questions - "Why can't I sleep? Will I sleep if I lie on this side? How about this one? Why did we never see anyone going to the toilet on the Starship Enterprise?" - I emerged from bed with a sense of foreboding. A whole day stretched ahead of me with all the promise of an accompanied walk to the gallows.

"I'm breathing from memory," I said to myself. "How will I get through a whole day?"

This afternoon I really started to lag. I was reading a discussion paper on financial protection arrangements in the EU countries and, I know this sounds hard to believe, my eyelids were drooping. Normally I can't put down the sections about equalising treatment across member states and the accepted protocol for single customer view - I can't wait for the film - but today they were doing nothing for me.

My bed was calling. However it was 25 miles and quite a few hours away. I was losing the will to live, and there was a distinct possibility of that statement becoming gruesomely accurate somewhere around Corley Services on the way. How to bridge the gap?


I'd never had one of these before. I'd had its bigger brother many a time, but thought to myself that a short sharp shock was the only way on this occasion. I tried not to look at the ingredients; oh, yes, there was caffeine-a-plenty, but I didn't dare think what else I was plugging into my system.

Needs must when the devil vomits in your kettle, as they say.

Timing was everything - I ripped the cap off and necked its contents in one go while waiting at the lights before hitting the M6 North.

I'm not sure the buzzing in my ears was quite what I expected. Come to think of it, Warwickshire was a lot less purple the last time I looked at it that closely. But at least I was alert for the drive home.

Which is where we are now. And, if you don't mind, I need to finish right now. Before the bats get me.


*(ps - it occurs to me that if I ever do die a horrible plunging or truck-crushing-related death, people will look back on this paragraph and go "Whoa".)

(pps, it also occurs to me that if people read that first ps, they'll really freak out.  "Whoa. He predicted it, too.")

1 comment:

City Girl said...

Needs must, indeed, Baldrick.

They Law, that stuff leaves me feeling like a meth addict with fleas.

Have you slept since?

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